The Moon Never Beams
by WikketKrikket
Summary: In the 1940s, everything seemed clear to Stephanie Rogers. She'd do her duty, win the war, maybe settle down with Howard somewhere nice. But now all that is long gone, Howard is gone, and all that's left is his son and his granddaughter. It's much harder to leave the past behind when you're constantly being reminded of it. (Superfamily-ish, fem!Steve, fem!Peter, Howard/Steve/Tony)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty sure this will never be finished. To avoid having super slow updates, I was planning on not posting it until I'd written the whole thing, but… well, it's been months and I've only managed to write two-and-a-bit chapters; so I really just wanted to share what I've done so far. It won't allow me more free time, but maybe it will motivate me? The problem is, I'm a final year student, I have a paid job and voluntary work, and I have very little time. So I'm saying this right at the start- if you don't like fics that will probably never be finished, and/or rarely updated, please don't bother reading this- I don't want to let anyone down! Chapter 2 will be posted in a few days, chapter 3 when it's finished, and after that… I just don't know, I'm sorry. .

But, if you want to continue, let's go :) The title is from Edgar Allan Poe's poem 'Annabel Lee' for reasons I hope will become clear later on.

Chapter One

_January, 1942_

_Working in weapons development, you were bound to suffer a few explosions, especially if you insisted on testing everything yourself. Howard was well aware of this fact, but it was not enough to stop him filling the few milliseconds available to him before he was knocked off his feet by the blast with as many curse words as his mind could process. He passed out. _

_ It must have been a bad one because he woke up in the military hospital on the edge of town, where they brought home the boys to that had been injured overseas or the rookies that managed to hurt themselves during training. It wasn't Howard's first visit since he had gained the US arms contracts just over a year before, and each time it was more humiliating to be back. Still, the nurses usually made a fuss of him, and it was the only holiday he'd got since the Europeans started kicking the stuffing out of each other, so he supposed the time wasn't a total loss. That day, when he woke up, it was a nurse he hadn't spoken to before who was attending to him. He knew her face, he had seen her flitting about the wards, but this was the first chance he'd had to study it up close. She was carefully wiping his face when he came round, in fact, so he was able to see her extremely up close indeed. It wasn't a bad face either; a little pinched, perhaps, the face of someone who'd had a hard time of it ten years ago and never quite got their appetite back, or maybe she'd been ill a lot growing up. Other than that, it was a pleasant enough face, creased into a frown of concentration, blue eyes and blond hair. She was a mousy, thin, frail little thing, but appealing in a certain way. She was certainly attractive enough to warrant his attention. _

_ She saw his eyes open and immediately backed off, allowing him to haul himself upright with a grunt of exertion that was annoyingly un-dashing. _

_ "Urrgh, I don't know what you nurses do to me, but I always feel terrible when I wake up." He complained. It was a joke, of course, not one of his better ones, but a joke all the same. The nurse barely smiled, folding up the cloth she'd been using._

_ "That's your fault, Mr Stark, not ours." She said. "Do you remember your accident?" _

_ "I remember a big fire ball."_

_ "It wasn't that big, you were the only one hurt. And your burns were only superficial."_

_ "Tell that to the pain."_

_ "Are you in pain? I can fetch the doctor." _

_ "You could tell me your name."_

_ "It's Nurse Rogers. As I said, Mr Stark, your injuries were minor but-"_

_ "Your first name?"_

_ "-You're not going anywhere until matron is satisfied that you're properly rested and your fever has gone down. You've been overworking, Mr Stark, your body is run into the ground. You really should try to be a little more responsible."_

_ "Has anyone ever told you that your bedside manner is terrible?"_

_ "Has anyone ever told you that this hospital is supposed to be treating soldiers, not profiteers?" _

_ Silence. That had been, Howard would admit, a little unexpected. Her face was turned away from him now, nominally as she straightened and smoothed his bed sheets, but he could see she was looking sideways at him, daring him with her eyes to contradict her. He couldn't help but smile a little. This was going to be interesting. _

_ "You have a problem with what I do?" He asked, trying to sound curious rather than accusatory. "Listen, sweetheart, I save lives."_

_ "You make guns."_

_ "Yes, and if our boys didn't have guns, the Nazis would still kill them. We aren't going to beat Hitler with a white flag. So unless you want to be singing __Deutschland über alles,____doll-face, you'd better get used to people like me." He looked her up and down again, taking in the blond hair and blue eyes. "You'd probably be fine though, you're just his type." _

_ "Our boys need guns, yes." She agreed, brushing off the rest. "But you don't have to make money off it."_

_ "They aren't free, sweetheart."_

_ "No, but you're not selling them at cost either."_

_ She was completely unashamed, Howard thought, she had no qualms about saying these things to him. In fact, from the look of her, she had probably wanted to say them to him for some time. She looked like a woman on a crusade. The idea of the challenge made her infinitely more interesting in his eyes; the idea she had a cause, and passion, made her more attractive. He saw something in her, even then. _

_ "Well, why don't you let me take you for dinner and I'll tell you all about it?"_

_ "I don't think so, Mr Stark."_

_ "Never?"_

"_Get better and then we'll talk. I'll fetch the doctor to come and examine you."_

_ "If I can't get a date, will you at least give me your name?"_

_ "It's Nurse Rogers." She repeated and left; but he had seen the small smile on her face. She was not immune to his sweet talk- in fact, if he didn't know better, he would have thought she was flirting back. _

**April 2012**

SHIELD were, in Tony's opinion, missing a trick by ignoring the intelligence-gathering skills of preteen girls. His twelve year old daughter, for instance, hoarded information like the most experienced of officers, and could use it against him to devastating effect. Not only did Penny have an encyclopaedic knowledge of British boy band and international pop sensation _One Direction_- which Tony now knew more about than any adult male should- she always knew when he was about to break a promise, whether accidentally or on purpose, whether the promise had been made drunk or sober, recently or aeons ago, none withstanding. Always. Usually she knew before he did himself. In the two years since his daughter had come to live him with him, Tony had learnt that sometimes, at least as far as promises to Penny were concerned, lying was not worth the effort.

Goodness only knew the kid had probably had enough promises broken over the years. Her history was turbulent at best; Tony had never really been a part of her life when there had been others to take the responsibility. Her mother had been a one-night-stand of his, he had been a rebound after her engagement had apparently fallen apart. Of course, Parker had married her anyway and he had treated Penny as his own even before she was born; she even had his surname. While he had been around playing daddy, Tony hadn't seen any need to get involved with the kid. He sent some money now and then, visited perhaps twice for just a few minutes on his way elsewhere, looked occasionally at the photographs her mother sent him and generally gratefully considered himself to have escaped any real responsibility.

That had only lasted two years, then Penny's mother and Parker were both killed suddenly, in the same accident. Tony couldn't remember when or how he had learnt the news, but he remembered it took him a few days before it really occurred to him that the responsibility would now be on him, that _he _needed to work out what to do with his daughter. He was not in a good place at the time; his father had just died, and however volatile their relationship had been, it left a gap in Tony's life. It also meant, of course, that the controlling shares of Stark Industries went to him and the company had been in absolute chaos, requiring Tony to put in long hours in boring meetings to try and straighten things out. Add in the fact that the kid was probably already traumatised by losing her parents, that Tony was basically a stranger to her and had no idea of how to take care of her, even if he'd had the time, and the suggestion of Penny coming to live with him became completely ridiculous. Her stepfather's family had been taking care of her ever since the accident, and had considered her their niece ever since she was born. May and Ben Parker accordingly agreed to take the young girl in, but it had been on the strict condition that Tony became more involved. True, his biweekly visits were rarely more than bimonthly, and were usually spent in awkward silences as they wondered what to do with and say to each other, but at least he wasn't a stranger to her anymore.

That was probably why, when a robber broke into the house, killing her uncle and hospitalising her aunt, Tony was woken up in the early hours of the morning to find a terrified ten year old had come out of hiding and run straight to him.

That night was his first real taste of what it meant to be a father. He had to stay with her, support her and listen as she told the police officers how she had woken up to noises downstairs, how she had gone out to look but her aunt and uncle, also emerging, had sent her back to her room. She told them how she had heard shouting and gunshots and run downstairs, slipped unnoticed into the kitchen looking for a phone, for a way to contact the police, but then heard steps approaching and had somehow managed to wedge herself into the cupboard beneath the sink before he came in. The man had the gall to stop and call 911 _himself_, making up a bogus story about it being a false alarm, saying a rat had got into the kitchen and his wife had tried to shoot it, obviously trying to buy time to get away in case the neighbours had alerted the cops. Hoping the noise would cover her actions, Tony's brave, reckless little girl had pulled the door open a crack, trying to memorise every part of his appearance for the police. The man didn't notice, and left. Penny had stayed in the cupboard, wanting to be sure he was gone- and then had come the sound of the door being broken down. Already more frightened than any child should be able to tolerate, Penny had bolted out her cupboard, out of the back door, over the yard fence and straight to Stark Tower without pausing to find out who the new arrivals were.

It was the police, of course, who were not so easily duped by false alibis. For one thing, neither of the registered owners of the address held gun licenses, so at the very least there was a firearms offence going on. When no-one had answered the door, further alarm bells had rung and they had finally broken it down, to find Ben Parker already dead, his wife shot, unconscious but alive and their niece missing. They contacted Tony just as Tony had got enough out of Penny to realise he needed to contact them, and the rest was a sleepless night and endless questions.

Aunt May had survived her injuries, but her recovery was long and slow and had mostly taken place at her sister's house. Penny had settled in with Tony and had been staying there ever since, but the bright-eyed girl glaring suspiciously at him over her breakfast cereal was reassuringly different from the wild, near-hysterical creature that had come to him that night.

The reason for her suspicious glare was simply this- Javis had announced that Tony had a call, from Doctor Banner, no less; Tony had taken up his headset and told him to patch it through, and somehow, Penny just _knew _that meant she wouldn't be having dinner with her dad that night like he'd promised. Her unimpressed look spoke volumes.

"I'm just taking a phone call, Penny. It doesn't mean I'm about to jet off to Europe for ten months." He said.

"What?" Bruce said.

"Sorry, I was talking to Penny. She never quite forgave me for the whole _hostage _thing. I missed her birthday." Tony began pulling up what he could on Banner's recent activity; if the good doctor was bothering to contact him, something big was going on. They had never actually met in person, but they'd had a lot of contact over the last decade through calls and e-mails and occasionally SHIELD agents in non-descript suits and pseudo-intimidating sunglasses, the exchanges mostly boiling down to "Can I have your father's notes on the super serum?", "No", "Why?" and "I can't find them". His old man had never exactly been big on writing things down, his notes had mostly been in his head. The rest had been doused in whiskey and set fire to in 1945, when Howard had been in a drunken rage because the one successful candidate, a woman he called '_Annie_', had died. Tony only knew as much about Stephanie Rogers, stage name _Captain America_, as every other kid did after they covered her in grade school history. That was about as much as he knew about his father's war work too, as the old man had refused to reminisce but had always looked relentlessly forward into the future and fought nostalgia even on the frequent occasions he was drunk, which usually began with swearing and cursing at anything he could get to and ended with a teary-eyed rendition of _When Irish Eyes are Smiling. _

Bruce had finally given up on any assistance from the past and had continued with his own efforts, which Tony had watched with interest; occasionally making a contribution, but they were essentially beginning again from scratch and Bruce should have expected a few hiccups along the way. Even Tony, however, had not expected such a gigantic _green _hiccup and had been waiting for an excuse to meet Banner in person ever since. Unfortunately, given that most of Shield viewed Tony as a distinctly _shady and unreliable personage_, the opportunity had never presented itself, until now at least.

"Can you get down to the Shield labs?" Banner asked him.

"Well, I don't know. I haven't exactly been welcome there before." He glanced at Penny, who was glaring at him more than ever. "And I'm not sure mommy is going to let me out to play."

Penny stuck her tongue out at him.

"You'll want in on this, Tony, trust me." Banner said. "The expedition was successful. We found her."

Tony felt a little shiver run through his guts, the feeling of discovery. _She _could only be one person; the successful serum candidate. Shield had trawled the ocean more times than Tony cared to recall looking for the corpse, hoping it would hold the key to recreating the serum. This could certainly be a break through. Bruce clearly thought so- the man was generally quiet and not prone to prattling, but even now, he was still going.

"The cadaver was perfectly preserved in the ice; there's no deterioration at all, it's scientifically perfect. I'm going to examine her now, just cursory stuff first, muscle development and so forth, and then I'm going to get into the blood work-"

"Alright, alright, I'll come down to view the results." Tony said, curious in spite of himself. He'd always loved a challenge, especially ones that involved a puzzle. It sort of felt like a contest- his father had invented the serum, and now Tony was going to help reconstruct it, backwards, just from viewing the end results. The old man wasn't going to beat him.

Still. He had no desire to go corpse-digging himself.

"Feel free to start without me on the post-mortem." He said. "I don't need to see anything squishy."

"Just get down here." Banner said, and Tony hung up. Penny sighed, loudly, clearly having gathered he was going out again.

"Sorry, kid." Tony tried.

"No you aren't." She said, matter-of-factly, because she always knew when he wasn't being entirely sincere. She scowled briefly, but she was good natured beneath it all, and had an interest in science which meant she couldn't dismiss a phone call from Doctor Banner any more than her father could. "What did he want?"

It was entirely possible that Bruce and his buddies at Shield would not want Tony's twelve year old daughter knowing this probably-sensitive information. Tony consoled himself, however, with the argument that if they did not want him knowing (and potentially sharing) their secrets, they should not have put their top-secret offices just a couple of blocks away from Stark Tower. Of course, their labs and buildings had been built in his father's day, when Howard had been all buddy-buddy with Shield's predecessors, but still. If they didn't want him to spy on them, they shouldn't have made it so easy for him to do so. Besides which, Penny was something of a Captain America fan. Ever since she had studied the woman at school, and discovered her grandfather's personal involvement, she had been fascinated. Tony wasn't quite sure the extent his daughter's collection of memorabilia went to, but he knew there was at least a stuffed doll and a child's dressing up kit involved, as well as some collectible postcards Penny had used to plug the gaps between the wall of _One Direction _posters and the tatty enlargement of an AC/DC album cover which she had put up to keep her father happy when he criticised her taste in music. One day she might actually listen to it. She was still looking at him expectantly.

"Well, you know Doctor Banner's been working on the super serum? He's found something."

"He's thought that before." Penny answered, ever the sceptic. "Before he went all Hulk-y."

"Yes, but by something, I mean _someone_."

"Someone who knows about the serum?"

"Better."

Penny thought for a second, then squealed in a way that only twelve year old fan girls could. Shield was definitely missing a trick.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Despite his specific request _not _to see any squishy bits, when Tony arrived Bruce still hadn't got as far as cutting the cadaver open. He'd had one of his lab assistants hustle Tony in through a side door, hoping that somehow, just for once, the billionaire would go unnoticed. He knew there was some controversy surrounding Tony at Shield- some of them wanted him involved in a new initiative Nick Fury was putting together, and some didn't. That was all Bruce had been able to gather from workplace conversation and a little innocent eavesdropping, and that was all he knew. Tony probably knew more about it, being that he had the time, skills and moral disregard to have hacked into the computer system more than once. This was the first time, however, that Bruce would see him up close; not on a TV screen or computer monitor. Tony was watching the progress of the post mortem from a glass wall in the floor above, with a perfect view of the table. Bruce would almost have been nervous, if he hadn't been too excited. This was it. This was the clue he had been hoping for- surely, with a sample of blood, with the original serum in his hands, it wouldn't be too hard to isolate the components? Perhaps he would even be able to unlock a cure to his own condition. The possibilities seemed to unfold endlessly before him, a winding, golden road.

But that was all in the future. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand, or none of it would happen. Every inch of the body had been photographed, recorded and scanned; including by X-ray. Considering the speed she must have hit the water, she was in remarkably good shape, with no broken bones and no internal injuries. Most spectacularly of all, there didn't seem to be any frostbite or major skin damage in spite of seventy years in deep freeze. The serum really was potent stuff. It was time to set up a blood drain and then remove some of the key organs, the heart and lungs, to study if the serum had affected them or simply the muscles, and if so how far beyond the norm they were.

"Fitting the blood drain now." He said, as his team silently and efficiently got themselves, and the cadaver ready for it.

"Just make sure you leave something for the state to bury." Tony's voice buzzed over the intercom. "My little girl was very insistent about that."

Bruce rolled his eyes, plugging the drain into the wrist before turning to the intercom himself. "How do you feel about stem cell research?" He asked.

"Why, have you got some?"

"Mm, I'm not sure yet. From the looks of the X-ray, it seems like she was pregnant when she went down. No more than two weeks or so, I'd say, she probably didn't even know herself." He glanced again at the X-ray of the lower body. "It doesn't seem to have any form yet, anyway, just a bundle of cells. At a guess, it probably got torn away from the lining on the impact of hitting the water. I can't really tell until I get in there though, for all I know it could just be a spot… on the… um, on the…" He ground to a halt.

"On what?" Tony demanded. "Bruce?"

Bruce was no longer listening. He'd thought he'd been imagining it, but there was a definite spurt coming now and then in the draining blood, beginning to occur more frequently, slow, comatosely slow, but almost as if-

But it was impossible. She'd been in ice for seventy years, and anyway, they would surely have noticed when they scanned her-

But none of them had looked for a pulse. None of them had checked. Why would they?

And there was the blood, not so much flowing, but occasionally being _forced_. As if her heart was still beating, slowly, slowly, but beating all the same- and quicker all the time.

Bruce swore. He never swore unless the occasion really demanded it, but he felt it was justified. He pulled the drain out before it could do any more damage, yelling to his team, demanding a heart monitor. The room fell into chaos as they tried to reorganise themselves, to find one, searching for any other signs of life. From the outside, it must have been completely incomprehensible, which was probably why Tony's questions of what was happening were growing more irritated. Bruce continued to ignore him, he wouldn't say anything until he was sure; after all, there were plenty of other explanations, more logical ones- but he couldn't help hoping.

Someone had found a heart monitor. Bruce hooked her up, and felt his breath catch. His heart was as still as the flat line on the screen. The room was in silence, apart from the dull, continuous thrum of the machine.

And then, there it was; a beep, a peak, followed a few seconds later by another, and then another, the gap slightly shorter. No-one was quite sure what to do. Bruce went back to the intercom.

"Tell your kid the burial is going to have to wait." He said. "She's still alive."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Stephanie came round slowly, with a struggle. Part of her didn't want to bother at all. Waking up had been an entirely unexpected occurrence anyway. She had accepted that she would die; that she _needed _to die, to save the others. Survival had not been part of the plan. All in all, though, it was a nice bonus. Howard would be pleased, if he didn't kill her for being so reckless.

She wondered what sort of shape she would be in. Perhaps she would be invalided out of the army, which, given how things were right now, might be the best outcome. Then again, she didn't remember anything beyond hitting the water and feeling the first rush of cold. It was entirely possible that she was still in the water. She might still be in danger.

She forced herself through the last few inches into consciousness. There was a ceiling above her, which was a good start. The tiles looked wrong, somehow, though perhaps that was just because they were unfamiliar. Ignoring the dizziness the movement caused, she rolled onto her side to see the rest of the room. It was fairly typical of a private hospital room she supposed, though it wasn't the sick bay at her last posting, nor the military hospital back home in New York. Where on earth had they taken her?

Something was wrong, though. Her instincts were recognising something off before her brain could. She struggled to her feet, shocked by how weak she was, looking around. There were no windows. Why would they build a hospital without any windows? Come to that, how could it be a hospital without any smell of disinfectant ingrained by long use into the walls and floors? She suddenly wondered, with a sickening twist in her stomach, if she had washed up on the wrong side. Maybe the Germans had her.

But there was baseball on the wireless. It didn't get much more American than baseball. She tried to calm down, to listen- she wondered how long she had been asleep. It took a few moments for her brain to catch up with the goose bumps on her arms, a few moments before she realised that she had heard this game before, around two weeks ago. It had been on the night- she couldn't forget it, anyway. Somehow, someone was playing a recording. This was a trap, a trick.

She wasn't going to hang around. The lock on her room's door didn't give her a moment's pause and she staggered out into the corridor, where the lights were just fluorescent tubes, but bright, brighter than any she'd seen anywhere outside of the Stark labs. Someone shouted behind her- she disabled them. She ran. She'd figure out where the hell she was and what to do about it once she was clear.

There was a fire door at the end of the corridor, but it was like no fire door she had ever met before. She punched it, but either she really was weak or the doors were reinforced, because she did little more than dent it.

An alarm began to go off; red lights flashing and a siren wailing, like inside the submarines. She had to get out _now_. In her panic, she turned to the control panel on the side of the door. There weren't any buttons. It was a flat piece of glass, but the numbers were there, drawn on behind it. More importantly, there was the small logo of Stark Industries that marked it as Howard's tech. If this really was an enemy base, it could be bad news; but for the moment, it gave her hope. There was the code, the code that only she knew, that Howard had put in because she had worried so much about his experiments going wrong again. It was meant to be compatible with all Stark Tech- but she couldn't find any buttons on this thing, no keyboard, there seemed to be no input at all. The seconds were ticking by, she could hear people approaching, and all she could do was tap the glass.

It seemed to work. The numbers lit up as she touched them, just as if they had been actual buttons. The door deactivated and she staggered out into the outside world.

It wasn't Germany. She didn't know where it was. If she had to guess, she'd say it was New York. She'd known the city all her life, she knew its street and its folks, and though she recognised nothing, it seemed familiar. It was like what New York would turn into in a hundred years' time, with towers stretching right up to heaven, every road crammed full of cabs and cars, people of every race teeming together over the sidewalks. She wasn't so sure that this _wasn't _New York a hundred years in the future, that she hadn't walked into a real-life Science Fiction. All she could do was stare, to stop herself screaming.

But there, barely two blocks away, the highest skyscraper of all of them, the one that rose the highest into the clouds; the name was written ostentatiously enough on the side of it. _Stark_.

Stark. There could only be one. Howard. It had be Howard. Howard would know what to do, Howard would know what was going on.

There were pursuers coming up behind her now. She kicked the door shut in their faces and ran, ran as if her life depended on it, just in case it did; ran past all the cars that looked like spaceships and stores advertising things she didn't recognise and people wearing clothes made of fabrics she never knew existed, heading for the one thing she could see that was still familiar.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter 2! The writing of chapter three is well underway, so will hopefully be up in the next week or two. After that, I'm afraid I don't know. That said, please enjoy this chapter :)

Chapter Two

**April 2012**

Working for Tony Stark, even just on the front desk, meant getting used to strange occurrences as a matter of routine. The change from weaponry to electronics had caused a certain amount of chaos, as had Mr Stark's long absence when he was being held hostage abroad. There were the usual plethora of visitors a large company could expect- salesmen and students, journalists, scientists and the like- but so much more than that. Frankly there were not many receptionists that had to deal with their boss' legions of sometimes-creepy fans, cosplayers, would-be heroes and sidekicks and villains; occasionally _actual _villains. When Pauline had come for her interview, Miss Potts had told her she would need nerves of steel and a level head, and she had been right. By now, Pauline was such an old hand that she barely bat an eyelid whatever came through the door.

By far the worst group to deal with, however, was the ex-girlfriends. 'Ex-girlfriends' was perhaps not the right word; Tony Stark did not have relationships. He had _encounters_. _Liaisons_. _One-nighters. _As far as Pauline knew, he had never even taken a woman on a proper date; he just picked them up and tumbled into bed with them. He had a reputation for it, so much so that the main condition of passing her two-week probation when Pauline began the job was to have not slept with him by the end of it. It was true he had slowed down a lot since his daughter had come to live with him, but from time to time, his ex-lovers still wandered in, looking wide eyed and lost and shrieking about how they 'had something' and how much they 'needed him' and being generally unpleasant for all concerned.

The one that burst in that day looked nuttier than most, almost falling through the doors when they opened automatically, moving in panicked circles, looking with wide, frightened eyes at everything. Her hair was loose and dishevelled, her feet were bare, she seemed to be wearing nothing but a night dress. Pauline cocked an eyebrow. _Clearly drunk_, she thought, hoping the woman would simply totter back out again, pressing the call button for security in case she didn't.

"Please, can you help me?" The woman gasped, falling against the counter, supporting herself on it. "I need to see Mr Stark. Is he here? I need to see him. Please, it's important."

"I'm sorry miss, he's not in." Pauline said, obediently, but something in her eyes must have made it obvious she was lying, because the woman kept pleading.

"Please. I need to see him, right away! Tell Mr Stark it's Stephanie Rogers, he'll see me, I promise, but please. I… I don't know where I am or what's going on."

The security guards had arrived and were sizing up the situation. They were obviously ready to see the woman out, but Pauline couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the name Stephanie Rogers was ringing a little bell; she had heard the name before, somewhere. Maybe Mr Stark had kept this one more than a night; maybe they had been at school together; maybe she was some small-time model or actress or heiress that she had seen somewhere. It didn't really matter in the long run, though. These girls were to be kept away from Mr Stark, no matter what.

But she didn't look well. She was breathing heavily, deathly pale, wild-eyed and staring- she looked ready to collapse.

"Do you require medical assistance, Miss Rogers? Can I call someone for you?"

"You can call Mr Stark!" She said, finally seeming to lose her temper and slamming her first down on the desk. The surface was a reinforced resin designed by Stark Industries to withstand almost anything, but her fist still left a dent in it. That was all it took for security to step in and see her out.

Stephanie didn't argue with them or fight against them. For one thing, she felt utterly spent, the flash of rage had burnt up her remaining energy and it was all she could do to stay upright. Emotionally she wasn't in much better shape. She was beginning to realise she was a long, long way from home and all she knew; and if she couldn't get to Howard, she might have to go through it alone.

She knew she ought to keep moving, that her captors from the lab may still have been after her, but she couldn't bring herself to. She was exhausted, in a way she hadn't been since she had been given the super serum; it made her think of her childhood illnesses, weak with fever in a small apartment overlooking the Brooklyn Docks. Sitting on the steps of the building claiming to belong to Howard, staring out at a world that went by in a confused montage that she could not follow, that apartment seemed like long time ago, another world.

"U-um, excuse me." A tentative voice came from behind her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Stephanie looked up, sharply. A young girl was hovering nearby, a satchel of some kind over her shoulder. She had been in the lobby before and must have followed her out. Trying to ignore her dizziness and confusion, Stephanie forced herself to smile.

"I've been better, but I'm alright, thank you."

The girl rocked on her heels slightly, glancing around as if worried she'd be caught. "U-um, you said your name was Stephanie Rogers, right?"

"Yes." She hardly dared hope it, but this child seemed to know what was going on, to know who she was. The girl broke into a wide, excited smile.

"S-so, you're Captain America! You're really her!"

"Yes." Stephanie tried to smile again. "That's why I need to see Mr Stark, I woke up in a… a lab of some kind, I had to break out. They had Stark tech, we need to regroup… figure out what they're planning…" Her head was spinning, making it difficult to speak. She suddenly realised she was gabbling away with no idea of who this strange child was. "Who are you?"

"My name's Penny."

"I need your help, Penny." Stephanie said, feeling rather distant. She was unused to asking for help from strangers, especially children, but something in the child's features made her trust her.

Penny nodded. "I'll help you, I promise." She said. "I, um, um, I-I have your pictures on my wall! They made collectable postcards…" She trailed off, realising how different the woman sitting on the steps of her father's building looked to the one on the postcards. It was the same person, yes, but on the pictures she had looked strong and confident, determined. Now she looked ill and tired and altogether lost. Penny didn't like it. She didn't want to see Captain America looking like that. This woman was her hero; Penny had only ever been in a proper fight once in her life and it was when she had been five and one of the other girls had told her she wasn't cool enough to be Captain America in the school's _American Heroes_ pageant. She wondered how much the woman knew, thought about trying to explain herself, but had no idea where to start. It would be better to take her in to see her dad. Her dad had been there when Doctor Banner had realised she was still alive; he would know what to do. "I can get you inside." She said.

"How?"

"I… um, I know Mr Stark." She said, biting her lip, wondering how explicit she should be. "Come on, we can get in round the back."

She helped the woman to her feet. Stephanie didn't question things any further, feeling that she'd had enough surprises for one day. She couldn't really accept that this child would just _know_ Howard, but whatever their connection was, she wasn't sure she wanted to know just yet. Penny seemed sincere anyway, and said nothing about Stephanie's weakness as she struggled to her feet, simply biting her lip awkwardly and stepping forward to help. Hobbling along far more slowly than she had in years, and leaning more on Penny to support her than she would have liked to admit, Stephanie went with Penny round to the side of the building, through a gate leading off an alleyway and into what seemed to be some kind of service corridor. It felt like a marathon, though it was no more than a few hundred yards. Penny took her into an elevator, where instead of pressing any of the numbered buttons, she said "Jarvis?"

"Yes, Miss Parker?"

Stephanie jumped, crashing back into the wall of the elevator, which seemed to be entirely made of glass. She looked around, searching for a speaker, a radio communicator, anything from which the voice could have come. It sounded too clear to be coming any distance, and she half expected to find another person in the elevator with them that she somehow hadn't noticed. There was neither. Stephanie had gradually cut down on the possible explanations for her current predicament until she was left with three; the most likely being that she had been injured and was at best delusional and dying in the cold water or otherwise mad. The other explanations were that somehow the bomb had sent her into either a. some sort of crazy scientific fiction universe, or b. the future. She realised b. was just as crazy as a. was, but she was forced to work with what she had.

She hoped she wasn't mad. There couldn't be anything worse than being trapped in your own fantasies. The elevator suddenly seemed very small.

"The top floors are all living quarters." Penny said. "Though at the moment it's only Dad and me-" She stopped, realising she had made a big mistake- and not just that she should have said _Dad and I_. "A-and, um, Mr Stark."

It was a terrible lie. Penny was not a good liar. Thankfully, Stephanie didn't seem to notice. Penny wasn't even sure she was still awake, leaning against the glass, her eyes miles away. Penny hoped she didn't pass out in the elevator. She wasn't tall enough to move the older woman on her own.

"This place…" Stephanie mumbled, looking out at Stark industries as they went up. She closed her eyes and didn't finish the sentence. When they finally reached the apartments at the top of the building, Penny lead her out. Stephanie looked around at their sitting room, the large television screen, her father's mini bar, the spectacular view of a modern city. She looked out of the window for a long time, in silence. Penny hovered, awkward, not sure if the woman would be able to stand up unsupported if she moved to find her father. She bit her lip, and then spoke.

"Jarvis? Where is, uh, Mr Stark?"

"In the labs, Miss Parker. I will ask him to come up."

Stephanie jumped again, startled at the disembodied voice. Penny decided to take her over to the couch before she fell over entirely.

"Thanks, Jarvis." She said, sitting down next to the woman. Next to _Captain America_. The thought seemed to freeze her brain, so she shook it off. She could obsess over it later, when her heroine didn't need help. "Um, um… so… w-would you like a drink, ma'am?"

It seemed a stupid statement, hanging in the air. The commonplace was out of place, there was nothing common going on here. Still, Stephanie smiled, and suddenly she looked like the super solider in the post cards. She would be alright, Penny felt suddenly, once she got used to things and had rested up a bit. She would be fine.

"Thank you, that's very kind. Some water, please." Stephanie said. She seemed to be reviving slightly now she was sitting down, although she was still deathly pale. Penny nodded and leapt up to fetch it, but at that moment her father appeared at the top of the stairs and things quickly took a turn for the worse.

Penny blamed Tony. Tony blamed Penny. But either way, in a very few minutes, they had an unconscious super solider on the couch and a lot of explaining to do to Doctor Banner and Nick Fury.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

_January, 1942_

_The crocuses had come out ludicrously early this year. It was only January, the snow had only just thawed, and yet they were already sprouting up outside the hospital window. Howard might have taken a moment to appreciate the beauty of creation, if he hadn't grown tired of that same view after a minute or so about a week and a half before, and if he hadn't had other frustrations taking up his time. _

_ He didn't have time for crocuses. He was a busy man. It was bad enough that he had been stuck in hospital for weeks over some injuries that were really nothing to write home about, but now he was _finally _being discharged, his assistant had brought him the most ridiculous clothes. His own had been too damaged in the accident to salvage, and all he had asked for was a decent suit. They had managed alright on the rest, but where they had pulled the shirt from he could not begin to guess. Howard was not a short man, yet the shirt fell much longer than it should; he had to turn his cuffs over to stop them covering his hands, and the collar was detachable. _Detachable. _The shirt was an antique, it was probably a decade old at least, perhaps older than him. It was as if he turning into his grandfather, and goodness knew nobody wanted that to happen. _

_ Besides, the damn thing kept coming unfastened from the shirt every time he tried to put_ _his tie around it. He was _Howard Stark_, the man who could make anything, the man with the cleverest hands in the Western World, and yet, as things stood, he couldn't even get himself properly dressed. Not that he would call a shirt that went out of fashion with the Charleston 'properly dressed'. That assistant was most definitely fired. _

_ The collar popped off again, almost strangling him with his tie, and Howard surrendered. Rumour had it that it was a woman who invented these damn collars to begin with; probably only women could get them to stay on. It was probably some sort of covert plan to make men dependant on them. He decided to seek assistance from the nurse's station. He should probably make his goodbyes anyway, leave a few broken hearts as always. He was rather smug about his popularity, though Nurse Rogers was spoiling his perfect record. She came in to see to him every day, pointing out the beauty of the crocuses every time she opened his curtains, and ignoring his cynicism. He knew she was amused by him, he could see it in her eyes, but she refused to admit it. She had told him to hurry his recovery so that the bed could go to someone more deserving. She was always patient and mild mannered, but she didn't mince her words. She was still rather plain, and it was no surprise to Howard that she seemed to be the only nurse who didn't get any attention from the local louts. But they were ignorant. There was something in her, something he couldn't quite identify- not yet- but that meant that every day she absorbed his complete attention. _

_ Every day he asked her to go to dinner or dancing with him, and every day she said no. While his body recovered, his ego was sustaining more and more bruising. _

_ Howard walked down the hallway to the nurse's station, but as he did so, he passed the Matron's office, from which he heard quite distinctly Nurse Roger's voice. He stopped to listen. Technically it wasn't eavesdropping if they had left the door ajar. He nudged it with his foot, to encourage it to open a crack. It was a success. He could hear clearly as his nurse protested:_

_ "But Matron, I-"_

_ "Nobody doubts your sincerity, Nurse Rogers, or your compassion. It is your aptitude that concerns me."_

_ "No-one has any complaints about my care!" _

_ "No, but you do have by far the most accidents, you are clumsy, you are frail and injure easily, and you keep turning up to work far too ill to tend safely to the sick. It is a bad habit to overreach yourself, Nurse Rogers. I will not recommend you for a transfer." _

_ "But-"_

_ "No arguments, Nurse. You will do far more good here than on the front. Now, attend to your patients." _

_ "…Yes, Matron."_

_ She came out of the room, pulling it shut behind her with a sigh. Howard had hastily backpedalled a few steps so that now he could walk towards her, looking like he had just got there. _

_ "There you are." He said. "I was looking for you."_

_ "Mr Stark? I was just coming to find you. Your car is here to pick you up." She looked him over critically. "But let me fix that collar first. We can't have you going out of here looking like a ragamuffin." _

_ "Thanks, doll." Howard stood still, letting her do it. Her face was much nicer close up, in his opinion, the pinched edges smoothed out a little. He thought about how easy it would be to kiss her._

_ "I used to do this for my father." She smiled as she refastened the collar and began to do the tie. "For Sunday best."_

_ So he reminded her of her father. Wonderful. He hated this shirt. _

_ "So what was old sour puss bawling you out about?" He asked. Her hands paused for a second, startled, then went back to work. _

_ "I'm sorry if my private conversation disturbed you." She said, mildly, in the clearest none-of-your-business tone he had ever heard. "I didn't know anyone was there." She pulled his tie through. Remarkably, the collar stayed in place. Howard did not know how these women did it. _

_ "Thanks." He said as she released him. "As for disturbing me, well, why don't you make it up to me and let me take you for dinner tonight?" _

_ "Dinner? And what would I get out of it?" _

_ "What? Well, a good dinner. Good… company." _

_ "You're a business man, Mr Stark, you're all about deals." She said. "The hospital needs more bandages. If you could see your way to supplying some, I could see my way to being ready at say, seven, to go for dinner wherever you like."_

_ "You drive a hard bargain." He remarked, wondering where someone so plain had got so much arrogance, considering she probably wasn't overwhelmed with offers. Or perhaps she really didn't want to go to dinner with him, and was just taking the opportunity to help the hospital. Either way, he kind of liked it. "This is turning into the most expensive dinner I've ever had." _

_ "You can afford it." She reminded him. _

_ "You're right, I can." He laughed. "Alright then, deal- but, as a sweetener, I get to call you by your first name, Stephanie." _

_ "You've been asking around about me, Mr Stark." _

_ "Call me Howard. And yes, I have. They all call you Annie, don't they? I think that's real pretty."_

_ "Do you?" She replied. "Then you can use it if you want to, Mr Stark." _

_ "So, I'll pick you up at seven?" _

_ "I'll be waiting on the corner." _

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

**April 2012**

The best thing about promoting Pepper was that he had such capable hands to leave the company in; or at least the boring parts. That meant Tony had more time to slip away from the main labs and offices and scuttle upstairs to his own, personal, workshop; accessible only by stairs down from the main sitting room of the apartment only he and Penny could enter uninvited. He told Pepper that he was working on new products for Stark Industries, and occasionally threw one together to keep her off his back, but in reality, he was normally working on the Iron Man suits. Tony Stark had never been one for moderation. He worked hard and he played hard and he figured the more power he could get into the suit the better. Today, though, he was mostly tinkering; adjusting this and that, experimenting with changes to the odd variable. It was nice to be able to work on the suit without the pressure of impending doom for a change.

"Miss Parker has arrived home, sir." Jarvis informed him. "She has a guest with her."

Tony paused, screwdriver in hand. "Boy or girl?"

"A woman, sir."

"Oh. Okay." His work would have then regained his full attention, but Jarvis continued.

"It appears to be Captain Rogers, sir."

"What?"

"Miss Parker would like you to go up."

Tony went up. He couldn't deny that this looked interesting.

He went into the lounge to find Penny standing before a woman on the settee; a dishevelled woman who looked pale and wide-eyed and shivery, and not at all like the proud American hero Tony had half expected. She wasn't even wearing shoes.

She had come straight from the hospital, Tony realised. She probably didn't know where she was yet. This could end badly.

"H-Howard?" The woman said, struggling with effort to her feet. "…You're not…"

"No." Tony agreed. "Howard Stark was my father. Now, why don't you just sit down for a second?"

"No." She said, shaking her head, backing away as he went to take her elbow and sit her down again. "No, you can't be, you're too old, you're older than him. How can you be his son?"

"You were asleep for a really long time, Captain. You went under in, what, 1945? But now it's 2012."

"I… I… this is… really strange…" She stammered, still backing away from him, from them, backing right into the mini bar. She looked panicked now, her breathing was heavy. "The bomb… how can I have…I don't…" Tony did not like the sound of that breathing. He could see her chest heaving. The chances of her passing out seemed to be increasing steadily. "Who… who… are you? I…"

"Penny, go to your room."

"What? Why? Is she okay?" Penny looked almost as wide eyed and panicked as their guest.

"Captain Roger's heartbeat is accelerating quite dangerously, sir." Jarvis interrupted.

"She's having a heart attack?! Dad, do something!"

"Penny, room!"

"Who… are… you?!"

"Tony! Tony Stark. Howard was my father, it's 2012, and you really need to calm down!"

"Tony? Antony?" She repeated, clinging to his sleeve now instead of pulling away. She was sweating freely. She needed a doctor.

"Right. Now, can we sit down?"

"Antony…" She said, and suddenly smiled a wide, confused smile. "I always… I always _hated_… that name."

"What?" Tony asked, but she was in no state to answer as knees suddenly buckled and she collapsed, Tony just managing to stop her head from colliding with the edge of the bar. He dropped her gently the last inch to the floor.

"Well, that was just rude." He commented, as he and Penny contemplated the heap of unconscious super solider.

"Is she… dead?" Penny whispered.

"No, sweetheart, she probably just woke up too soon and overdid it." Tony grunted, pulling the woman up by the armpits. "Grab her legs, I guess we'd better put her on the couch." Penny hurried to comply and they carried her across the room. "Why didn't you warn me that she didn't know anything?"

"I don't know!" Penny practically wailed. "I knew she didn't know where she was, b-but she just kept asking for Mr Stark! I thought she meant you! I forgot granddad would have been Mr Stark too!"

"You're an idiot."

"I'm not an idiot!"

"The out cold woman on the couch says differently."

"That wasn't my fault." Penny pouted. "It was your fault. You surprised her."

"Yeah, well, see if you can wake her up." Tony replied, taking out his phone, typing out a text with a practised ease that did not betray the nerves he felt otherwise. He decided to keep it simple.

_Lost something? Will leave it in the lounge for you. _

Penny was not having much luck reviving the Captain. Perhaps it was better that way. They could leave her in the hands of professionals, who would know what to do with an old war relic that had hung out with his father and had probably done as much for the war effort in her calendar shots as on the battlefield. Shield would probably find somewhere to hide her away, give her an enormous pay off, and leave her to quietly fritter her life away. He probably wouldn't see her again.

He felt a little sorry for her, but that was just the way it was.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

_January 1942_

_ "Well, if it isn't my favourite army pin up. Hello, Carter. Sweet of you to come get me."_

_ "Shut up and get in the car, Stark. You need to get back to the labs." _

_ "Why?" Something in Peggy's tone made Howard realise she meant business, that this wasn't the time for flirting and teasing. He got in. She locked the doors and began to drive. _

_ "The file." She said, nodding to a buff folder lying on the dash board. Howard picked it up and flipped through, cursing when he realised what it was. _

_ "Erskine told them we needed to postpone the live tests!" He said. "They're not trying to pin this on me, are they?"_

_ "Oh, they tried, but it's hard to make things stick to a man who was unconscious on the other side of the city at the time." Carter replied, and from her tone Howard rather thought she'd probably had something to do with speaking in his favour. It didn't cheer him up much. He cursed again. _

_ "How many casualties?"_

_ "Five." _

_ "Fatalities?" _

_ "…Three." She guiltily caught his eye in the mirror. "They're included in the casualties."_

_ "That doesn't really make me feel any better." He sighed. "Why didn't anyone tell me? I needed to know this, Carter."_

_ "You were in a military hospital that is open to the public and staffed mainly by volunteers." She answered. "It was hardly safe for a visit. Loose lips-"_

_ "-sink ships, I know." He snapped. "But, you see, the thing is, tight lips kill soldiers." _

_ "Howard." She tutted. _

_ "What? You don't think it would make a good slogan? Is it because it doesn't rhyme?" _

_ "You'll just have to make sure it doesn't happen again, won't you? If anything else goes wrong, they'll discontinue the programme." _

_ "If they'd listened to us it wouldn't have gone wrong!"_

_ They fell into silence and Howard moodily flipped through the pages in the file, looking for the more explicit explanations of what had happened to the test subjects for the serum. He would crack this. He would._

_ Peggy sighed and started to drive. As she turned, the wing mirror reflected the door of the hospital, where Nurse Rogers was emptying an ash tray into the bin. He wondered if she smoked. He would ask her later, when he met her again. Whatever else happened, at least there was that. _


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here is Chapter Three- and sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be up as soon as I can manage it, by which I mean 'eventually'. .

This chapter will be Howard's last appearance for a little while, so please enjoy!

Chapter Three

_May 1942_

_The first time a girl lets you kiss her is a rather important milestone if the relationship is more than just a bit of fun, more than just playing around. With Annie it had happened under a non-descript street light, nowhere special. The kiss wasn't really anything special either, if he was honest, just a quick peck under the lamp on the corner of the street as he walked her home from the pictures. Walked. Howard was more than rich enough to have easily taken her home in his car, or at least a taxi cab. But no, she was a Brooklyn girl through and through, always the daughter of a docker, the bus was good enough for her- the bus and a half-mile walk at the other end. Howard insisted on accompanying her, of course, he was a gentleman. Besides, he'd grown to love those journeys home. What she lacked in beauty, she made up for in spirit, character. He loved her eyes and her smile, he even found the fact every date came with an attached condition somewhat attractive. It was a flirtatious dance, a game they played together; some bullets, some bandages, scrap metal, factory space, blankets; dinner and dancing and the pictures; a kiss. _

_ It was that first kiss that had given him the idea. It was terribly unromantic of him to be thinking about work in that situation, but he had started well, thinking how brave she was, how lucky he was, how caring she was. _

_ And then, suddenly, everything had clicked neatly together in his head. The reason Erskine's serum had been failing, it was probably the overdose of testosterone. Being tested was an emotional experience, the blood would be flooded with all kinds of things- including its own testosterone supply. If the serum amplified everything that was already there, with the serum on top, it would be too much for the body to safely cope with. But it would be impossible to lower the amount in the serum; without it the vita-rays could do nothing. They needed to find a way, somehow, of lowering the amount in the test subject. _

_ There was a way. Of course there was. They could try it on a woman. A woman, and it had to be Annie, of course it had to be her, who else could it be? She was devoted to her country, she wanted so desperately to serve it, she had become a nurse even though that hadn't worked out too well for her mom, she had begged a dozen times to be transferred to a hospital on the front lines, to help service men wounded in action, not in training. Howard often joked she would have been a solider herself if she could, and she laughed it off, but he was never sure if she was really joking too. She believed passionately in America. He knew then that of course it had to be Annie, his brave Annie. She wouldn't have let him use anyone else. He'd wanted to kiss her all over again, and he had. _

_ And now here they were, nine weeks later, ready to test the theory out. Howard couldn't deny being a little nervous. His role had only ever really been advisory in the development of the serum, and then only really on the technical side of things; at heart he was an engineer, not a scientist. He only really even made weapons because it was easier and more profitable than making flying machines. Only Annie knew that. She said that after the war, in the peaceful world she was convinced lay on the other side of it, he should give up on guns and start making aeroplanes. She said he was rich enough to give up on making money and do whatever he wanted. Howard thought she was an idealist. There would always be a demand for guns, but perhaps he wouldn't be the one making them. The face of weapon tech was going to change today anyway. If there were going to be super soldiers in the world, the battlefield was going to become unrecognisable. His guns and bombs and mines might become obsolete. Aviation might become a more profitable route for him after all, if he could find some decent designers who understood aeronautics. Howard wouldn't mind that. As long as he got his ten per cent from assisting Erskine with the project, he was happy to leave the government contracts to those who wanted them in future._

_ Still, Howard was unusually nervous. He had read everything about the serum, and yet, there were one or two small details he admittedly hadn't quite grasped; not to mention the fact that Erskine wasn't quite as much definitely-not-a-mad-scientist as he would have liked. He would have preferred it to be all his own work, when he was entrusting someone as important as Annie to it. But they had checked and re-checked, tested and re-tested the serum before it had got to this point. He was sure it was safe. They were confident, so confident that Erskine had invited various government officials to come see the show. It was time they saw what the serum could do. _

_ Besides, there was no way Annie would have let him back out now. She had been completely in favour of it ever since Howard had suggested she be used as their participant. Still, she looked a touch nervous as she followed Agent Carter into the lab that day, wearing only a hospital gown. Howard tried to smile reassuringly and turned back to double check the machines before she noticed his expression wasn't that reassuring at all. Leaving Erskine to do the talking- it wasn't his strong point, but Howard supposed the scientist deserved his shot at the limelight- Howard went to help Annie get properly strapped into the chamber and ready to go. _

_ "Ready?" He asked, taking a moment to give her bare arm a rather unprofessional stroke. She looked smaller than ever, surrounded by all the equipment. He was beginning to have second thoughts. _

_ "As I'll ever be." She answered. "Are you?" _

_ "As I'll ever be." _

_ "This is more ready than your flying car was, right?" _

_ "My what?" Howard frowned, then realised she could only mean his appearance at the world fair, and the floating car he had displayed. It had crashed. "You were there?" _

_ "Yeah, Bucky wanted to go. I didn't want to interrupt." _

_ "You went on a date with Bucky?" _

_ "No, he had a girl and one of his friends there."_

_ "So you went on a date with his friend?" _

_ "Howard, really, I was just tagging along."_

_ "Yes, and just how far did you tag along, Annie?" _

_ Doctor Erskine cleared his throat. Everyone was ready for the procedure to start- and listening in, probably. Howard jumped away from the pod and nimbly back down to his machines. Erskine smiled and launched into his preamble. Howard coaxed his machines into life. The procedure began. _

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

**May 2012**

Stephanie was making a mental list of what had been better in the forties, and what was better in the present day.

_Gyms_. Gyms were better now, on balance. They had plenty of equipment that seemed entirely lazy, that practically did the work out for you, but they had traditional bars and beams and weights too. Best of all, they opened twenty-four hours, or close enough. She could go there and work out with the other insomniacs in the long and empty hours of the night. Or in the day. She had more money, and therefore more free time now than she had ever had in her life.

_Manners_. The manners here were awful. Even polite people seemed rude. She didn't want to harp on like an old _back-in-my-day _woman, but every time she so much as tried to cross the street, horns would blare, people would shout. She'd had countless doors slam shut in front of her face as the people in front failed to hold it open, and she'd learnt it was now absolutely taboo to speak to strangers on public transport. There was no consideration for others any more. The elevator in her apartment building was usually out of order, and perpetually smelt of urine and beer.

_Cars_. Cars, though, cars were better now. To her they seemed as smooth and silent as the sun setting and the night coming on in a clear sky. Unfortunately, none of them flew. She wondered if Howard had ever gone back to his prototype, or if he had just got bored of that project like so many others.

_Night time_. She had grown to hate the dark hours here; not that there were any. New York, the City that Never Slept, the moniker was more than euphemistic now. People would work, drive, shout, curse, while they should be sleeping. She'd moved back to her old neighbourhood, in an apartment building that had been built well after her time, but was still falling into ruin and disrepair. All night she would hear people coming up and downstairs, music, arguments and tears as well as the traffic and noise of a living city outside, but she didn't think that was what was keeping her awake. She felt very out of place, out of time. She hated the nights. She'd tried the pictures (_Movies_, they were certainly different now to the forties, bigger and louder and sometimes better, sometimes worse) and had once made the mistake of entering a bar, but they weren't the sort of places she wanted to be. Mostly, she went to the gym, returning home to bed in the small hours, but still waking soon after dawn.

In the day time, there was little to do but wander. She'd considered looking for work, but she didn't know how people even began to look for a job in this age where people had computing machines small enough to be carried in a pocket. She didn't _need _to work anyway, not with the pay out she'd been given from Shield and a grateful government. She hadn't really wanted to accept it, but she hadn't known what else to do. They'd signed her up with an advisor, who was meant to be helping her to adjust to the modern world, but she had stopped attending the sessions after a week. The bottom line was that she was burying her head in the sand. The best way to learn about the new world was to live in it, and ever since she had been thawed out she'd felt an almost irresistible urge to be outside almost constantly. It was a strange kind of pressure, a mild claustrophobia perhaps; she hoped it would go away soon. There wasn't much she could really do to force it, however, so she simply kept her head down and carried on. Sooner or later, she told herself, something would change. Some purpose would come up, or her feelings would change, and she'd adjust. It was just a matter of killing time until then, and trying to believe it would happen.

Today she had been walking around the city as usual, trying to match the places she saw around her to the map she had in her head. Some things, sometimes entire streets, hadn't changed a bit. Sometimes there were whole new roads squeezed in where there had never been one before. She wondered, often, if the locals appreciated what a place this was; it was rich and fine and so bright, so vibrant. In spite of her home sickness, she could admit, this was a remarkable place to be. She preferred to get out of her own neighbourhood when she rambled, though. She wouldn't want to live anywhere else, she was a Brooklyn girl through and through, but it was strange to be so anonymous, to be a stranger, a foreigner, to a place that had always been her home.

She was sitting outside a street-side café in the middle of the city now, watching the world go by. It was the strange double nature of her situation- she was homesick, out of time, disillusioned with the new world; and yet, she couldn't get enough of watching it. It was terrible, but it was exciting, it was beautiful but dark, it was the same at heart, but different all over. She knew she was being too hard on the new world really. There were problems, but there had always been problems. The reality was, in the war, in that awful war, they had been fighting for freedom and justice and peace and the better world they were sure lay on the other side. This world, this New York, did not live up to those hopes. They'd all taken such delight in telling her that they'd won the war, no-one ever talked about what they lost.

Still, the sun was shining, the streets were teeming with people of all colours and all walks of life, and, in the end, she was alive. In her last moments, before the ice, before her brain shut down, she'd been praying, praying for Howard, praying for the safety of the world, being thankful for the life she'd had; but it seemed someone wanted that life to carry on. She didn't know why yet, but it had to be out there somewhere, surely. It would come soon. She just had to hold onto that.

The waitress came to take her order, and when her voice came out hoarse, Stephanie realised this was the first time she'd spoken to anyone in three days. The positive thoughts she'd been working so hard to scrape together crumbled abruptly. The waitress must have seen something change in her face, because when she returned with the coffee (_Coffee- _Always awful, compared to the forties.) she struck up a brief conversation.

"It's a great drawing." She said, smiling. Stephanie looked up, startled, and then down at her napkin. She had been doodling idly, but until then she hadn't even consciously realised what it was. It was the Stark Tower, which, from this angle, still dominated the skyline. She suddenly felt embarrassed, as if caught at something illicit, realising her mind had been drifting back to old times, old people. She couldn't allow herself to go there again. She mustn't think of Howard, not too much, not in public.

"Oh, thank you." She said, resolutely screwing it up. She sipped her coffee.

"Are you waiting for the big guy?" The waitress asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Iron Man. A lot of people wait here just to see him fly by."

"Oh." Stephanie said, and, feeling that probably wasn't sufficient answer enough, added "I see."

Howard might not have finished his flying car, but it seemed his son had a flying suit. Stephanie glanced towards the tower. She would kind of like to see that.

There was a slight awkward pause. The waitress smiled and began to move on. "Well, the table's yours as long as you want it." She said. "Oh, and there's free wireless."

"Radio?" Stephanie asked, accidentally voicing the word out loud. The waitress smiled in confusion, and slipped politely away. Stephanie drank her coffee as quickly as she dared, as if pretending she had some place to be would somehow make one appear. She had just stood to leave, when she heard someone calling her.

"Stephanie?"

It was Stark, Tony Stark, Howard's son. She hadn't seen him since the day she had first woken up, but there he was, standing on the curb, leaning out of the door of some fancy car, and calling to her.

The surprise was so sudden, and so pleasant, that it was almost painful, like stepping into the sun after being in a pitch-dark room. _Someone knew her name. Someone recognised her_. Her guts wrenched and she didn't know how to stop them; she found she was blinking back tears as she smiled and went over there. Thankfully, they were gone by the time she was close enough for him to have possibly seen them. She didn't know how she would have explained. Tony would never know, would never understand, what it had meant to her, just to have someone here who knew her name.

"Do you need a ride?" He asked, without further preamble. Inside the car, Stephanie could make out his daughter leaning forward to try and see, and smiled at her too. Penny smiled nervously back, and practically threw herself back against the seat, looking out of the other window. She was obviously a little shy, Stephanie thought. She could sympathise, she had been that way herself once.

"Oh, thanks, but I was just heading home." Stephanie replied, trying and utterly failing to think of some greater purpose to give herself. "I like the walk."

"Oh. But, you know, have a ride anyway, because Penny's already made me circle back round the block to come get you and if I think she'll resort to drastic measures if I don't get you in the car."

"Dad!" Penny protested, colouring. Stephanie smiled again, trying to put her at ease. Although she was admittedly hazy on the details, she knew the girl had helped her out when she had first woken up, so she figured accepting the lift was the least she could do. Thanking them both, she got in.

"So, have you two been out together?" She asked.

"No, just school." Penny answered.

"I went to her school. It was parents' day." Tony elaborated.

"No, it wasn't, it was parents' day last week. You just showed up."

Tony didn't so much as look at his daughter, his gaze fixed on Stephanie as he brushed off his daughter, looking entirely sincere. "I took the assembly." He explained.

"Yeah, but they didn't ask you to!" From Penny's tone, Stephanie began to suspect she had stumbled into the middle of a family disagreement.

"I had valuable things to say about the importance of the future of industry."

"You spent half of it talking about the Iron Man suit!"

"Hey, I'm going to get around to making those commercially available to businesses… eventually."

"You spent the other half signing autographs!"

"Sweetheart, what did we say about telling people things they don't need to know?" Tony said, with a glare at his daughter and vaguely apologetic look at Stephanie, who found herself torn between being unimpressed with his irresponsible attitude to education and his ego, and yet, amused at his antics. She felt another sudden pang of loss as she realised she'd had very similar feelings about Howard, more than once. She hurried to move the conversation on, to a subject that had piqued her curiosity and could occupy her mind.

"Iron Man suit? Is that your flying machine?"

"Oh, you've heard about that?" He replied. "It's not really a flying machine, it's more of a personal high tech suit of armour. But yeah, it flies."

"I'd love to see that some time, Mr Stark."

"Sorry, I don't really do demos."

"You can show her the lab, though!" Penny volunteered eagerly. Tony silenced her with a look.

"I wouldn't want to be an intrusion." Stephanie ventured.

"No, that's fine. Just… watch your step in there." He sounded doubtful. Stephanie wondered why; whether the problem was him, or her.

"Alright."

"It's really cool." Penny said, with an air of confession, as if she didn't want her father to hear the compliment. "I'm sure you'll like it, Ms Rogers."

"Oh, Stephanie, please. If I'm allowed to call you Penny, Miss Stark, I think it's only fair." She smiled gently.

"Parker. She's Parker." Tony said. "After her step-father." He sounded rather put out by this, but Stephanie could have slapped him, with the expression he left his daughter's face. Penelope looked almost ready to cry. Instead of asking about what was clearly a difficult subject between them, Stephanie ignored his comment and did her best to cheer up the child.

"Or Annie. My friends back home used to call me Annie. Your g-grandpa did too."

She couldn't help stumbling slightly over the word. Somehow she couldn't quite align the concept of 'grandpa' with her memories of Howard, who had been so young when she had known him; younger than he had probably admitted. He had told her he was twenty-five when they first met, just a little older than she was, but she'd seen his hospital notes and he'd been born in the fall of '21, three and a half years after her. If he'd lived, he would have been ninety by now. That thought alone was strange enough; but stranger still was the fact that his son still had to be on the shy side of forty. Howard must have been pushing sixty before he'd even got around to having children. She wondered if Tony had been planned. She didn't quite dare ask.

Penelope, at least, was oblivious to the thoughts swirling around Stephanie's head, still smiling at the implication that they were friends.

"Annie is nice." She said.

"It's old fashioned." Tony was clearly in the mood to be contrary. "It's a name that only grandmas and little singing orphan girls have."

"Singing?" Stephanie repeated.

"There's a musical called Annie." Penny explained, rather apologetically. "It's about an orphan girl, I think."

"Like the comics?" Stephanie asked, having spent much of her childhood reading every _Little Orphan Annie _strip she could find in used newspapers. It had been pretty popular, but she couldn't imagine anyone making anything as grand as a musical out of it. (Although, she had walked down Broadway and it seemed like they made musicals out of anything these days. There was even one about the everyday life of cats. _Musicals_- definitely better back home.) At the mention of the comics, it was Tony and Penny's turn to look blank.

"I don't know." Penny said. "I have the DVD. We could watch it after dad shows you the lab, you can see if it's the same."

"Sure." Stephanie said, though she didn't really have a clear idea of what a DVD actually was. There was something in her flat with 'Blu-ray/DVD Recorder' written on it, but she hadn't got any further in her investigations just yet. "And Tony, you don't have to call me Annie if you don't want to."

"Fine, then I won't."

"Fine."

"Stevie!" Penny blurted, clearly more to stop them fighting than anything else. "There was a Stephanie in my class at elementary school, she shortened her name to Stevie!"

"Stevie…" Stephanie repeated. It tasted foreign to her tongue, and modern. The new name appealed to her. It was a name to help her forget the past. She could start a new life on a name like that.

"I like it." Stevie said; and all at once Stephanie blew away into the past.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Tony wasn't well-equipped to handle serious situations. Being witty and pithy was his coping mechanism, his one-liners were his response. Sometimes people couldn't handle it, but they needed to lighten up. Life was full of assholes, and you could either take it personally or laugh with them.

Just sometimes, though, there was a situation he couldn't be an asshole about. Usually these were with Penny- she was only a kid and he didn't want her to hate him, not if he could help it, so he had curtailed his jerkiness somewhat. This time, however, the problem was Stephanie's.

They'd had a nice evening, or, at least, it had been more fun than Tony had been expecting when Penny had talked him into inviting 'Stevie' over. Then again, it was never a bad day when he got to show off in his lab; although his guest wasn't quite as easy to impress as he'd hoped. Maybe she was used enough to the modern world that some of the dazzle had faded, or maybe it was because, as she said, she'd spent a lot of time in the lab with his dad. It couldn't be a lack of interest. He was always interesting. At least she had been more impressed with the suits, admiring them, asking a lot of questions, most of them revolving around whether the suit would work in space. She called it a space suit. Tony had not been terribly impressed with her, on that score at least.

He'd been a little worried that she would enjoy the sentimental smaltzy-ness of _Annie_ when they sat down with Penny and a Chinese take away to watch it. He figured someone, at some point, must have liked the insipid sentimentality, and if anyone would, it would be this woman from the forties. To his relief, Stevie had seemed more interested in her food, jokingly declared the movie 'awful' when they were half way through, and the three of them had spent the rest of the run time insulting it; something Penny was surprisingly good at for a child her age. Tony was proud of her. Unfortunately, she was definitely scheming something; deciding that, as Stevie had missed out on so many films over the years, they should do this every week and show her the landmarks of cinema that had passed her by. Tony had tried to get out of it, of course, but the kid was surprisingly cunning, and had insisted on the basis that even if _he _didn't want to join in, she and Stevie could still go ahead. Stephanie had mumbled something embarrassed about not intruding, Penny had pushed the point still further, and Tony had finally capitulated just to get out of an awkward conversation, just as Penny had known he would. He had no intention of joining in with the film-fest though. He had things to do. Still, as a one-off, it had been kind of fun.

He'd given her a ride home, also at Penny's insistence. After so many missed dinners, it was Tony's policy to appease his daughter as and when he could. Still, he might have refused if he had realised just what sort of area his car- his fancy, expensive, top-of-the-range-with-Stark-modifications car- would have to journey through. This was not the sort of place you'd expect to find a vintage American hero, it was not America at its best. It was more the sort of place where you locked all the car doors for fear of what might happen if you had to stop at any traffic lights.

"It was nicer in the forties." Stevie said, apparently sensing his thoughts.

"Yeah, but… look, I'm sure Shield could find you somewhere better."

"I want to live here. I've always lived here. I'm not about to be chased out by some hoodlums with cans of spray paint."

Famous last words, as it turned out. She'd politely invited him in for coffee, and he'd accepted on the assumption that she'd actually _meant _coffee, and not 'coffee'- though, honestly, she was _Captain America_, if it had looked like it was going the way of 'coffee' Tony would probably have just gone with it. She lived in a rundown apartment block, which she at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed about as they picked their way up a narrow, graffiti-lined stairwell. Tony watched where he was putting his feet, convinced he would step in something unpleasant. She was busy assuring him that her apartment was fine once you were inside, but then she pushed the door and stopped mid-sentence.

'It _was _fine.' She said, after a moment's pause.

'Oh… well.' Tony said. He didn't know what to say. Half a dozen quips ran through his mind, but he didn't really want to test them out on a woman who, rumour had it, could easily throw him down the stairs.

'Why would…' She stopped and swallowed. 'Have they even taken anything?'

The flat was a mess. The door had been broken down and the whole place had been turned upside down. She was right, this didn't seem to be so much an act of theft as sheer boredom, vandalism. Words, large and explicit, had been sprayed over the bare walls. Clearly the whitewashed canvas had been too tempting not to deface in such a way, with, of course, the obligatory penis. The walls aside, all her furniture had been turned over and emptied out; there were shattered pieces of what Tony guessed had been her record collection all over the floor, there was stuffing from where her cushions and bedding had been torn apart, her clothes were strewn across the place, her plates were broken in pieces, beer was staining her carpet, and, judging by the smell, something, somewhere, had been urinated on.

The contemplated the scene in silence. Tony went to open the window, but it was stiff and sticking in the frame. Stevie came and thumped it open. Super-soldier or not, it was kind of embarrassing to have less upper body strength than a woman who still styled her hair like a 1950s housewife. He really did need to get more exercise outside of the suit.

"Do you think they knew?" She asked, tentatively examining some of the clothes. "I mean… is this because I used to be Captain America?"

"I doubt it, Stevie, it was probably just some dumb kids, bored and looking for trouble."

She nodded, but said nothing, righting the bed frame. It was a cheap, metal affair; the kind with springs strung across it. It had probably reminded her of the army. For all the mess, Tony could see there hadn't been much here to begin with. The records and the player, hopelessly smashed, must have been from an antiques or a second hand store, and had probably been her biggest purchase. There was the bed, a chair, and the wardrobe; but it didn't look like there would even have been enough clothes to fill it. He was starting to pick out tiny scraps of paper littering the floor, so she must have either had books or some sort of sketches, the pieces were too small to tell at a glance. In the kitchenette at the other end of the room, the amount of crockery seemed to suggest she had just enough for one. She'd barely had anything, barely had any time to accumulate anything, and now it was all gone. She'd lost everything again.

Even he didn't feel much like making a wisecrack any more. Stevie did it instead.

"Um, we might have to rain check on that coffee." She said. "The floor seems to have had all of mine."

"Look, just come back to the tower with me." He sighed. "We've got a couple of residential floors that aren't in use, but they're fully stocked. You can stay there as long as you need to. There's no point staying here tonight."

"You're right. I'll sort this out in the morning…" She said, sighing. "Thanks, that's very kind."

She came with him with no further comment. Tony suspected it bothered her more than she was letting on, but what else could he do? All she brought with her was a few of the undamaged clothes; everything else she left behind in the apartment she couldn't even lock. It hardly mattered. Everything was already broken.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

_May 1942_

_It was a comfort to have Annie there of course, but the serum had changed her. Her hand, as she rubbed circles on his back, did not feel like her hand. Her touch did not feel like her touch. She'd changed, and it was his fault._

_ The serum had worked and worked well. It was obvious she was healthier now. She looked the same except that the harsh angles of her face, the weathered looks of hard years of childhood illnesses and going hungry in the economic disaster had been smoothed out. She'd grown an inch, her muscles were defined and toned; she'd gained the broad shoulders of a dancer or a swimmer. Even her hair was glossier. She looked as if she had never been ill in her life. _

_ Nor were the changes just physical. After the assassin had killed Erskine, Annie had taken off after him like a shot, running like a sprinter. Howard dimly noted that this was probably the reason he hadn't had a bullet lodged in his head too, she had reacted so quickly. She'd caught up with the guy, but too late. He'd killed himself before she could do anything._

_ But she was okay. She was here, beside him, shaken but unhurt, different on the outside, but still Annie, still his Annie, who had screamed and screamed so much when they'd given her the serum. _

_ Howard would hear that screaming as long as he lived. To know that she was in pain, and that he was the cause, he had never felt so awful. Worse, he had just frozen up, staring like a slack-jawed idiot at the capsule. Peggy had to yell at him to turn it off, to stop the procedure, before he even remembered he could, before he even moved. Those few extra seconds of agony had probably seemed an eternity to her._

_ Annie had insisted on continuing, of course, even with the pain in her voice. Howard ignored her. He would have stopped it, but Erskine stopped him. Howard had never hated anyone as much as he hated Erskine in the moment when the doctor tore him away from the controls. But a moment later, the screaming stopped; and a minute after that, the procedure finished. A successful trial. _

_ Only then Erskine was murdered, and the lab was a mess, and Annie was gone before they'd done any of the post-op checks, before they'd worked out if it was really a success, for all he knew her heart could have suddenly given out, or the pain could have returned, or anything could have happened that would distract her, just for a second, long enough for the enemy to shoot her too- _

_ His hands were shaking. Howard had never felt so pathetic. He needed a drink. He needed to stop thinking about how many people were dead because of this stupid experiment. _

_ Annie pressed a kiss to the side of his head. It was the first time she had ever kissed him when there were other people around. Perhaps being so pathetic had its upsides._

_ Phillips approached them and Annie stood, ready, no doubt, to give her best military report. She had taken to the soldier's life like a duck to water during training. She said it was just because she wanted to help her country, but Howard rather suspected she enjoyed the army lifestyle._

_ "Sir-" She began, but Phillips silenced her with a wave of his hand and a disbelieving look. He turned to Howard._

_ "What the _hell _were you thinking, Stark?!"_

_ Howard stood too. "I was thinking what the Military thinking. You wanted a super soldier, and that's what I've given you."_

_ Phillips snorted at that. "Wrong. I wanted an army; what you have given me is a dead scientist, a ton of paperwork and a crazy experiment that you performed on your lady-friend here. Is this some kind of a sick joke? Are you actually insane?!"_

_ "Sir," Annie interrupted. "I… I may not have taken him alive, but I caught up with the shooter. With respect, sir, none of your men could do that. Erskine did not give his life in vain. The experiment worked."_

_ Phillips gave her a pitying look. "You were only ever the next step, missy, the next test run before they figured out how to get it working on a real soldier. Do you ever see Agent Carter out on the battlefield sticking her bayonet into a Nazi? No. That's because we don't put women out on the front lines, no matter how good they are. We need an army and you aren't even a soldier. You are not enough." He turned back to Howard. "And you, you could have killed her. You disgust me, Stark." _

_ Howard said nothing, glaring back out of pride, even though something in the back of his mind was thinking the Colonel was right. Phillips shook his head and went to leave._

_ "Sir!" Annie sounded desperate now. "What am I supposed to do now?"_

_ "You were just a lab rat, Miss Rogers, and the experiment is over." He shrugged. "I guess it's an honourable discharge." He began to walk away again. "I'll see if I can get you a medal or something, in recognition of services rendered. What the hell, have an honorary rank; I'll make the document say 'Captain' for you if it'll make you feel better."_

_ "Sir, I don't want to be discharged! I want-"_

_ "Ma'am, I don't care what you want. This is a war and we already have too many women caught up in it. If you want to help, go back to your home, go back to your family, and do what you're supposed to do. Do what my daughters do. Join in the war effort. Go back to the nursing auxiliary. Knit us some blankets. Buy war bonds. Whatever you do, just stay the hell out of my ar-"_

_ Someone behind Phillips cleared his throat. "Ahem. Excuse me, Colonel, I believe I have a better idea. Miss Rogers, rather than buying war bonds, how would you feel about selling them?" _


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter has not been proof-read, and the main reason for that is that Call the Midwife is on in 15 minutes XD I'm sorry...

Also, a warning that this chapter touches briefly on paedophilia, just in case. If anyone would prefer a summary of the chapter please message me :)

Also also, I lied. I'm sorry, I said Howard would be back in Chapter Five, but that was back when the events of this chapter were only going to be one scene. XD But he will return in Chapter Seven (probably) so hang on for that!

That said, please enjoy! It's the Tony-Penny bonding chapter!

Chapter Four

**June 2012**

Tony was getting a little impatient. Stevie had been in their apartment, in the TV lounge, for the best part of twenty minutes and Penelope still hadn't emerged from her room. These film nights had been her idea, and the first three she had been totally over-eager, counting down the minutes, but on this, the fourth, she hadn't shown up at all.

Tony couldn't help but be a little put out. The second time they'd done this, he had insisted he wasn't taking part, but Penelope had given him the damn hurt puppy look until he had come up. And it had been fun. The third time, he hadn't needed so much persuasion. Stevie was not at all what he had expected. True, she was old fashioned and a little prim, there was the definite aura of a school teacher or librarian about her- especially her hair, which she wore in a style he had only ever seen in black and white movies, which never even slipped and in which no pins were visible, so he could only conclude was held in place by some sort of wizardry- but he was slowly discovering that beneath all that there was a deeper vein of sarcasm, of mettle, that was waiting to be tapped. It made sense, really. However goody-goody she was-and she was, in his opinion, a _scarily _good person who needed to learn that selfishness wasn't selfishness if it didn't hurt another person. Last time she had refused to eat the last spring roll even though no-one else had wanted it- she would have needed a backbone of steel and a streak of stubbornness a mile wide to get as far as she had in the forties. It was easy to see why she had been chosen for the project. Needless to say, since she had been living on the floor below, he'd been finding more reasons to come out of the lab now and then.

She was still looking for her own place, though. Apparently living beneath his lab was too reckless even for Captain America. The noise wasn't a problem as he'd completely sound proofed the lab shortly after Penny had moved in and he'd discovered ACDC at 1AM was not good for ten year olds, but things did admittedly have a habit of dropping through the floor now and again. Luckily, it turned out Stevie was quite adept at plastering for a woman of her time, and repaired her ceiling without too much complaint. Tony was, however, seriously considering taking the sound proofing out of the floor. Stevie was in desperate need of a musical education. She was, at the moment, accidentally the ultimate hipster- she only knew bands no-one had ever heard of, or at least hadn't heard of for fifty years. If there was one great passion in Tony's life, after engineering and parties, it was music. Once they'd got her up-to-date on movies, then he would move onto the great albums she'd missed. He already had a list ready, which he'd put together on the same lazy afternoon he'd spent making a chronological list of all the classic movies she'd missed out on. _Annie _had been an anomaly. They'd started with _Brief Encounter_, which was not one of Tony's favourites, but for some reason his dad had loved. Stevie had laughed at that, said Howard had loved 'the sappy stuff' and seemed overall to prefer the other 1945 entry in the form of _The Lost Weekend_. The week after, they'd tried the 1948 version of _The Three Musketeers_, in which all of them had admired the choreography of the fight scenes and which was a completely necessary restoration of Tony's masculinity after sitting through _The Bishop's Wife_, which was a stupid movie to watch in the middle of summer but did, strangely, reveal that Stevie had a huge girly crush on Cary Grant. Tonight, though, it was time to move things on a bit. Stevie was really never going to understand modern pop culture if she'd never heard of _Godzilla_.

First, however, Tony had to coax his twelve year old daughter out of her bedroom. She wasn't replying to his knocking, which meant he had to try and be stern. Being stern was not his strong point.

"Penny, come on, open up." He said. "Come on, Stevie's been here ages, we're waiting on you, kid. This was your idea."

It was annoying how much his stern voice just sounded like whining. He tried the door. It was locked. He had never known her to lock the door once.

"Penelope Parker, you open this door."

Tony knew the power of the full name trick. Sometimes, in the back of his mind, he could still hear his mother's voice saying '_Antony Edward Stark'_ , usually when he had done something wrong and knew he was about to be caught at it. It worked on Penny too, apparently, because the door finally clicked open. She looked pale, but her eyes were red. She'd been crying. Tony found himself hoping she wasn't about to continue. He wasn't good with tears. Tears were not his thing.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Dad…" She whispered, sounding embarrassed. "I got my period."

"_Oh_." Tony said. It was the strangest feeling. The internal monologue in his head, that had run continuously, almost unnoticed, in every moment of consciousness in his life, suddenly halted- not just as if there were no more thoughts in front of it, but as if there had never been any behind it. To say he was not prepared was to under-exaggerate. He had not even considered this. Ever.

Besides, Penny wasn't even a teenager yet, not for a few more weeks. This sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen to girls until they were teenagers.

It was happening, though, and Penny was looking at him, looking to _him_, for help.

Crap.

"Oh." He said again. "Oh. That's um… eww. Gross. Okay. Um…"

"You think I'm gross?" She looked ready to cry again. Damn hormones.

"No!" He was beginning to suspect he wasn't handling this well. But what was he supposed to say? Suddenly, the panic in his brain swung into irrational rage. He didn't want to know, he didn't _need _to know. What did she expect him to do about it?

But he was her dad, and the only person around, and if this was her first one, who else was she supposed to ask?

_Crap. _

"What do I do?" She asked, looking like she was panicking as much as he was. "My stomach hurts."

"Yeah, I… Um. Yeah. I think that happens." He said, uselessly. He had no idea what to do. Weirdly, he felt much the same as he had when he had first woken up in the cave where he had been held hostage and found the strange machine crouched on his chest. Panicked, not understanding, with no idea what to do, but under a huge amount of pressure to do _something_.

From behind him, Stevie gently cleared her throat. The rooms all opened into the same space as the lounge, and she must have approached unnoticed. "Penny," she said, with a kind smile. "Why don't you come downstairs with me for a while?"

Tony had never felt such acute relief in his life. He was saved.

Penny, of course, looked absolutely mortified. After all, Stevie hadn't been in their lives that long and Penny was still a little in awe of her; the kid hadn't quite separated her from the childhood hero on the postcards in her room. Even so, she took the lifeline offered, nodded ashamedly, and disappeared down to Stevie's flat.

Tony helped himself to a large whiskey while he waited for them, trying to get over the grossness of it all. Hopefully, now he'd survived that little disaster, he'd never have to hear about it again. He was just lucky Stevie had been there and been willing to step up to the plate.

That was the first time he noticed how much he admired her, and felt slightly disgusted with himself for it. This was classic damsel in distress behaviour, passively falling for the person that had saved him. Of course, he'd known Stevie for a while now and interacted with her and got to know her a little and, yes, he was quite comfortable to admit she was physically attractive- she was Captain America, after all; she'd been America's sweetheart in the war years, a chorus girl and a poster pin-up for a couple of years until she decided to be a proper solider. So yes, in summation, she was physically attractive, but he wasn't about to try and seduce her because- goodness help him- he was actually beginning to like her. As a person, not as a woman.

That wasn't to say he would say no to a night time manoeuvre if she wanted one, but he wasn't going to push it too much with a girl who could punch him through a few walls in the time it would take him to get the suit on, especially not when Penny would hate him if he scared her away.

Penny. He supposed she was technically a young woman now. Tony did not want to think about it- he definitely did _not _want to think about it- but it made him more weirdly emotional than he wanted to admit. Her childhood was coming to an end. Soon there would be boyfriends or girlfriends or both, and experimentation with drink and drugs and sex and parties. He didn't know where the years had gone, it was as if he had only blinked twice since she was born and now she was all but grown. Hell, you could probably have blinked once and missed his involvement in her early childhood. When he felt a lump in his throat that couldn't be swallowed, Tony decided the whiskey wasn't doing it and went to do some work in the lab. Some of his best inventions came about while he was semi-drunk. You got a lot further when you had fewer inhibitions about risk.

A little while later, Jarvis informed him that they had returned and Tony returned to the upper floor to the sound of Penny laughing. She still looked a little embarrassed when she saw him, but she seemed a lot happier for the time being. And apparently the two of them were best buddies now, because the first thing she asked was if she could go shopping the next day with Stevie.

"Sure." He said. "As long as Stevie doesn't mind."

"Not at all, it'll be fun." Stevie replied. "So, why don't we get this film on?"

Tony felt grateful again. Clearly she had sensed his discomfort- he had been desperately trying to work out if he should ask about _it _or not- and moved the conversation forward. He nodded.

"Alright. Well, this is a good one. I mean, this movie got so famous it's made its own adjective- _Godzilla_."

"No!" Penny said. "Dad, no, not _Godzilla_." She looked at him with pleading eyes.

"What's wrong with Godzilla?"

Penny shrugged awkwardly. "It's scary."

"Are you serious? You're not serious."

"I don't like it." She repeated stubbornly.

Normally, Tony might perhaps have pushed it- there was nothing scary about the original _Godzilla _movie; the effects no longer looked realistic enough to make it any way frightening. Today, however, he decided to give way graciously and put on the next film on the list instead. Privately, he was a little relieved there was still something childish left in his daughter. He wasn't ready to handle a teenager yet.

Of course, he was absolutely wrong. The moment Stevie had left, Penny glared at him and said "_Godzilla_?! Dad, what were you thinking?! You can't show Stevie _Godzilla_!"

"Why not? Is she in the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Dinosaurs? I guess I better cross _Jurassic Park _off the list too, then."

Penny was clearly not in the mood for jokes. Periods made her pissed off, it seemed. "_Godzilla_," She informed him, folding her arms. "Is a visual allegory for what the atom bomb did to Japan at the end of the War. For us it was years ago, but for Stevie it was only a few months- and she wasn't even around then! Does she even _know_ about the atom bomb? Do you know how she feels about it? It was only a few weeks after she went under, what if she's thinking 'If only I'd been there, I could have stopped it'? And Grandpa was her friend and he worked on the Manhattan Project, does she know about that? You could have really upset her!"

Tony wondered vaguely what they were teaching at schools these days. The boarding school he'd been at had very much brushed over the devastation caused by the a-bomb as a necessary evil, but it sounded like the teachers at Penny's school were being a little more honest about it, maybe even going too far the other way. At any rate, he hadn't expected his twelve year old to be so knowledgeable, let alone opinionated. It was like she had aged years since last night- or he had just been paying no attention to it before.

But come on. No twelve year old should know that _Godzilla _was 'a visual allegory'. Why would they even know the _phrase_ 'a visual allegory'? He'd always just thought of it as a movie about a giant dinosaur totalling a city, and now he had been shamed by a child- who apparently was not as much of a child as he'd thought her that morning.

So he told her it was time she went to bed. He still had that power, at least.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Penny had breasts. Tony had no idea where the hell they'd come from, but, sure enough, when Penny returned from shopping with Stevie the next day, there was definite boobage involved. They were small, barely enough to fill an A-cup, but still. He was pretty sure those had not been there a few hours before.

His brain quickly caught onto the fact that they were simply more noticable because she was wearing a bra now. Neither of them mentioned it. He didn't even really want to think about it.

"Did you have fun?" He asked, as an alternative.

"Yeah." Penny smiled, glancing up at Stevie. Her awkwardness seemed to have faded, she seemed totally relaxed around the older woman now. That, at least, was a relief. She needed more friends. "Stevie finally bought some jeans."

"Don't get too excited, I don't know how often I'll wear them." Stevie answered.

"You know you're in the 21st century now, right?" Tony asked. "Women are allowed to wear trousers."

"You know they wore trousers in the 40s too, right?"

"So did you." Penny put in. "Your uniform- the proper one, I mean, not the one for the shows- that had trousers, right?"

"Yes, but it's a little different wearing them for civvies." Stevie replied. "My mother always thought it was indecent; she would never have let me wear trousers when she was alive, and after she passed away I never quite had the heart to."

"I'd hate to have to wear skirts all the time." Penny replied. "I'm sure your mom wouldn't mind now…"

Stevie laughed. "Well, maybe not. Don't worry, I'll try wearing the jeans later."

"Alright. I'm going to put my stuff away." With that, Penny grabbed her bags and disappeared off to her room.

"She seems a lot happier." Tony commented. "Thanks for taking her out."

"It's fine." Stevie rocked slightly on her heels, a habit, Tony was beginning to notice, which came out when she was uncomfortable. "Do you mind if I say something?"

"Go ahead. Come on, I'll get you a drink."

Stevie nodded, and followed him over to the minibar, which also stocked bottles of water. He didn't want to look like a drunk every time he had guests.

"So what's up?"

"You need to educate yourself, Tony." Stevie said. "This is a scary time for Penny and-"

"Woah, woah, woah. Woah. No." Tony held up a hand to stop her. "No, really, no. I do not need to know about any of those… girly things. Penny wouldn't want me to! I'm her dad, it would be weird! She'd be too embarrassed to tell me, I'd be too embarrassed to hear it, so we don't talk about it and everything works out great."

"Then why was she being picked on at school?"

"…What?"

"She told me last night she was being teased at school because she was the only one who hadn't started wearing a bra yet." Stevie was blushing slightly, but spoke firmly. She was obviously dead set on seeing this uncomfortable train wreck of a conversation all the way to the end.

"She didn't say anything."

"Because she was too embarrassed! She needs to feel that she can talk to you about these things, Tony. If you're uncomfortable, it'll make her uncomfortable."

"Alright, alright, fine. I'll make sure she has enough bras."

Water was not going to cut it. He didn't care what Stevie thought any more, he was going to find some alcohol.

"And you'll learn about the rest?"

"I really don't-"

"If she had a mom around, it would be different." Stevie interrupted. "But she doesn't. You're all she's got. It's hard on both of you, but you need to grow up and deal with it."

"Things aren't like they used to be, okay? People talk about this, all the time. The school teaches-"

"The school barely taught her _anything_. You're lucky she knew it was a period and didn't think she was suddenly bleeding to death!"

Tony crossed his arms. "Well, what more does she need to know?! It's not that complicated!"

Stevie looked about ready to hit him, folding her arms right back at him. "How often do you need to change a tampon?" She asked.

"What? I don't-"

"You don't know? Well, what if she doesn't know either? You can get into all sorts of trouble if you leave them too long. Can you sleep with them in?"

"Why would I-"

"Oh, you don't know? Well, I hope Penny does. What about her age? Is she starting earlier than most girls, or normal, or too late? If it's early or late, is she young or old enough that you should be worried about it?"

"Alright, fine, so-"

"What about the rest of it? How much pain is normal? How much blood is normal? How much pain or blood does there need to be before you get it checked?"

"Alright, fine! Look, is she alright? I mean… is this normal?"

"Yes, she's fine." Stevie sighed. "But you need to know this stuff, Tony, just in case."

"Alright, fine, I'll deal." He sat down opposite her. "Tell me."

"What?" She finally seemed taken aback. "No."

"You're the one who said I needed to learn, so let's talk about."

"I don't think that's appropriate."

"Come on, I'm all ears."

"You can get some pamphlets or go to the library! I'm really not comfortable-"

"Oh, so I have to get comfortable talking about this stuff and you don't?"

"That's completely different."

"How?"

"You have a responsibility towards Penny, I don't."

"Oh, really? You didn't seem to mind that when you were buying her underwear."

"I didn't buy it, she bought it; I just helped out because she didn't have anyone else."

"So you didn't want to help?"

"Of course I did!" Stevie sighed and got to her feet. "This is ridiculous. I'm leaving."

"Look, if you really think I need to know then I need you to-"

"Tony, all my information is seventy years out of date." Stevie sighed. "I can help out with the basics, but, heck, I'm from a time when half the time tobacco companies claimed smoking was good for you. For all I know, there's a magic pill now that stops you from bleeding at all."

"Didn't they tell you any of this?" Tony asked, slightly taken aback. "I thought you had a counsellor for the whole adjusting-to-modern-life thing. Hasn't this come up?"

"I stopped going after a week or two." She couldn't meet his eye. "It wasn't really helping."

"But still, you've been here a while, way more than a month, you must've-"

"No." She cut him off, a note of upset in her voice. "I guess I don't need a magic pill anymore."

"You're not-?" Tony started, thinking of the terminated pregnancy Doctor Banner had found when they'd first pulled her out of the ice, the pregnancy so early that she couldn't even have known about it.

"No." She cut him off short. "I don't think that's an option for me anymore. I guess being in ice that long messed something up."

Tony wondered, then, if he should tell her. But then, how could he look her in the face and explain that, so far as they could tell, she had miscarried when she had hit the water and that she had lost something she now seemed upset that she could never have? Besides, it would be a whole world of awkward. She would probably cry, and he didn't do well with tears. It was kinder, much kinder, to just let it be.

She bade him goodbye and left. Tony didn't try to stop her. Some conversations he was better off out of.

That night, after Penny had gone to bed (at long last- one thing Tony had learnt was that periods equalled mood swings, and could turn his sweet little girl into a raging monster when the slightest thing went wrong), Tony got out his laptop. An honest-to-goodness laptop, which a keyboard, just to search the internet for something. He could have done it on any of his display screens, but would have felt somehow embarrassed getting Jarvis to look up these search terms; so, the old fashioned way it was. He logged onto his browser and went to Google, searching 'periods'.

Too general, there were way too many results and the top few were just feminine hygiene companies looking to promote their products and the rest seemed to be Yahoo Answers of people asking 'Is it true that…'. He went back to Google and searched 'pubescent girls'.

He really should have put the safe search on. Revolted, he left the page so fast it was basically a knee-jerk reaction.

But then, there was something. Something he'd glimpsed for less than a second, and yet… reluctantly, he went back.

It was there, in the previews of the image search. Going (having thoroughly steeled himself first) to the full image results, his suspicions were confirmed. The same girls kept appearing, not in foolish, self-taken attempts to look attractive on Facebook, but in 'professional' photographs; different backgrounds, leading to different websites, but the same fifteen or so faces. His stomach turned, his body already accepting what his mind wasn't admitting. All his searches were pre-programmed to return local businesses and locations first, because his Googling was usually limited to take out numbers and dry cleaning services. What it meant was that this was going on in his hometown. Different websites, but one operation; or several operations passing girls around like trading cards. Someone was preying on a core group of underage girls, spreading the pictures around, making sure if the police shut one webpage down the ring could continue, probably from a central location.

"Jarvis, are you getting this?" Tony asked.

"Yes sir, and I can't say I approve of your taste."

"I'm investigating, Jarvis, not browsing." He began- knowing he would have to destroy the hard drive after- opening up the various pages the pictures lead to. "I need you to trace some IP addresses for me, buddy. Iron Man is going to go and have a little talk to some guys about the age of consent."

By the time he'd left a note for Penny (the standard- '_Out being Iron Man x_') and got the suit on, Jarvis had done his work. Each website lead to a different location, a different house, but Jarvis had taken the liberty of entering the servers and searching for other networks, soon finding one that connected them all just a few blocks away. This had now become personal, and Tony was going to sort it out, with only one brief stop on the way.

Stevie seemed a little surprised to find him in his suit standing in her doorway a few moments later. He lifted the face visor.

"Hey, Cap." He said. "Come on, I need you." He turned to lead the way.

"What?"

"Come on, it's hero time." He said. "Look, I just found out there's a paedophile ring operating in town."

She looked blank.

"Underage girls." Tony elaborated. "Being used in pictures that no-one under the age of sixteen should have to know about."

"Sixteen?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Eh, I'm a realist. We don't exactly live in a great world." He tried to wave her out of the flat. "Now, come on, come on, let's go stomp some bad guys."

"Tony… this sounds like something you should get the cops involved with."

"Yeah, and I will, after we've kicked the crap out of them. Cap, I've seen the photos. Some of these girls aren't any older than Penny."

Her face hardened, and Tony thought she was going to agree, but then she shook her head. "I can't. I'm not Captain America any more, Tony."

"Why not? You can still do everything you did before."

"I was a soldier, not a superhero."

"Yeah, well, you don't have any Nazis to fight right now, so why not go after the bad guys in your backyard?"

"It doesn't work like that. I'm not sure SHIELD-"

"Is this just because you don't have the uniform? Because it was big news when you woke up, everyone will know who you are anyway."

"I don't want them to-"

"And to be honest, the uniform was a little… loud."

"Hey! That uniform _was _America."

"I knew it was because you don't have the uniform."

"It's not! I don't have my shield either."

"Okay, so, step one, break into the SHIELD storage facility and steal it back."

"Tony!"

"It's not stealing if it's yours."

"Technically it belongs to the military."

"Technically it belongs to you and Stark Industries."

Stevie looked disapproving.

"Alright, fine, new step one. We go back up to my lab, and find you something to tide you over, _Cap_."

"…fine." Stevie said. "But come in for a minute first."

"What is it now?"

"Have you ever tried fighting in a skirt?" She asked, smiling. "I'm going to put my jeans on."

"Can I watch?" Tony asked, the answer to which was a firm slam of her bedroom door. He loitered, awkwardly, wandering into the kitchen. There was a pan full of rice boiling on the stove. "Are you cooking now?" He asked. He often ate at odd times himself, but he would never cook a full blown meal at eleven-thirty at night; especially not when he knew she'd had a full dinner earlier in the evening with Penny.

"Just some supper." She called back, her body following her voice and emerging behind him a moment later. "It's practice, more than anything. I never had to do much cooking, before. I'm trying to learn how to make more things."

"Remind me to teach you about take out menus." Tony replied, reaching out to turn the heat off. "Forget food, it's time to go be superheroes."

"Well, how could I refuse?" She asked, smiling, and he knew she'd been waiting for this even if she hadn't realised it. Being Captain America might have been a heavy duty, but she was lost without this. It was the whole point of the serum, it was what she had been created for.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Tony crashed down on the sofa, feeling worn out but satisfied. The police had the culprits- and the necessary evidence- in custody with the promise that the girls they had victimised would be taken care of. They'd avoided the press, everything but minor injuries, and it had given him ideas for some new suit specs which he was planning on getting to work on as soon as Penny- who had gotten up for school a few minutes after he arrived home and was now showering- was out of the way. Stevie had even promised to make him dinner sometime, when she was confident enough in her abilities. Tony did not usually do sit-down-with-people dinners, but he felt like he could make an exception for her. He would, he was starting to suspect, make an exception for almost anything for her.

He wasn't stupid, either. He knew this was growing into full-blown crush territory, like some sort of pathetic teenage fanboy and he planned to get a grip on that situation as soon as possible. But really, she was beautiful and famous, and she could sit and snark movies with them and she was good with his daughter and had rescued him from an _incredibly _awkward conversation, and at the same time she was as tough as nails and something of a warrior. As it turned out, watching her fight in her new jeans had been kind of sexy, a kink he had never known he had- or maybe it was just her. He admired her, in every sense of the word and he had, honestly, been a little disappointed that she hadn't come upstairs with him. He was starting to think he needed to just seduce her and get it out of his system, but Penny would never forgive him if he drove Stevie away. He needed to be careful, and not do anything unless they were on the same I-want-sex-not-a-relationship page.

Although, he had never even really tried being in a relationship, so if it turned out that was what she wanted it might not be totally unreasonable for him- No. Tony cut the thoughts off sharply at the head. There was a reason he didn't get into relationships. Relationships were messy, people got hurt and he had Penny to think of. Sex was simple, easier. If he was going to do anything with Stevie, that would be it. Friends with one-time-only-benefits sounded ideal, enough to get the school boy crush out of his system but not enough to make it awkward. Maybe the next time Penny was safely out of the way.

For now, though, he needed to stay on Stevie's good side, and she was right, he did, unfortunately, have a responsibility towards Penny. He wasn't going to risk Google again, not directly, so instead, with a heavy heart, he headed for a forum for single fathers. Sure enough, there was a topic about dealing with daughter's puberty.

And none of it was helpful. Most of the posts just seemed to be men complaining about how their heartless girlfriends/partners/wives left them and dumped the kid on them, or grieving widowers talking about how much they missed their wife and how hard it was to _be strong_ when things like this came up. The remainder seemed to be about how to explain puberty _to _their daughters, how to broach the subject, how to put them at ease, not explaining it to each other. One guy was extolling the use of puppets for this purpose. Tony was beginning to suspect this was not very helpful to him. He began composing his own post, trying to get things back on track.

_This is gross, but can anyone tell me_

No. If he began like that, they'd think he was a bad father.

_My daughter is twelve and she's just_

He couldn't bring himself to go into specifics.

_Does anyone know what I'm supposed to_

Definitely not. He didn't want to open that particular can of worms; or end up as misinformed about everything as most of the internet was. He pushed the laptop away, running his hands through his hair in frustration. Why did this have to be so _difficult_? He was Tony Stark, he was supposed to be able to do anything- but then, he should never have been expected to have to learn about periods. This was ridiculous.

It then occurred to him that maybe he should do this the Tony Stark way. He changed forums, joined one for single mothers and began a new thread.

By the time Penny came out of the shower, the suitably sappy message- subtly containing all the questions Stevie had asked him, ha- had generated ten or twelve responses, at least three of which were just straight-up hitting on him and seven of which talked about how sweet he was and what a good dad he was, which made a nice change. All of them, however, were informative (more informative than he'd wanted, to be honest, and he could not escape the general skin-crawling feeling of _eww) _and he finally knew what to do if Penny ever came to ask him about stuff. Not that she ever would, because it was creepy and gross. But she could have, if she wanted to, and that would be enough to get Stevie off his back. And he had learnt something new, which would make him a generally better and more understanding person and so on.

"Dad, you're up already." Penny seemed surprised. "Do you want breakfast?" She looked at him again. "…Have you even been to bed?"

"Nope." He answered. "And now I'm going to go and do some suit stuff in the lab, so, you know, I may be gone a couple of days." He was joking, but he saw her face. Clearly she did not approve. "…but breakfast sounds good."

"Alright." Penny smiled. "Come on, I'll show you how to fry eggs."

"I know how to fry eggs."

"No you don't."

She was right, now that he thought about it, so he followed her obediently. He was really getting too soft around these women.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello! It's taken a while, but as I have a week off from uni I thought the best possible use of my time was a nice double length chapter for you all :) Actually, it's mostly because I thought I couldn't put off Howard for another chapter XD I really need to plan more. And proof-read, but if I did that, this wouldn't be up before bed time.

There's a couple of references in this chapter, so I'll put them at the end. Please be aware there is some **strong language**in Tony's last scene.

**IMPORTANT**Please note that the opinions represented in this chapter are not necessarily those of the author, or, indeed, intended to be representative of the opinions of any particular group. They are intended to be taken as the opinions of individual characters, not as a statement of a particular ideology or of right and wrong. In other words, even the good guys can have bad opinions; it paves the way for later development. XD

Chapter Five

**July 2012**

Sometimes Tony got the distinct impression that he was something of a disappointment to his daughter. Not in his inventions and lab work, she always marvelled at that, but he got the feeling that in her eyes there was a little more to be desired in him as a person. Then again, he had apparently been in the lab for three days (he hadn't realised it had been that long) and he had greeted her with 'What the hell are you watching?', so perhaps the exasperated look she shot him was fair. He sank down onto the settee beside her.

"It's the Women's Groups of America conference." Penny informed him as, on screen, the reporter commentated and the delegates filtered into a lecture hall. "All the different women's rights groups- the normal ones and the really crazy ones- get together and discuss the issues."

"Sounds great. And they televise that now?"

"Dad, we have _eight hundred _channels. Everything is televised somewhere." She used the remote to gesture at the top corner of the screen where the station's watermark was displayed. Tony was pretty sure he had neither seen nor heard of it before.

"Okay. Sure. Isn't this too old for you?" Penny glared at him, so Tony sat back with a sigh. "Fine, have it your way. Shouldn't you be at school or something anyway?"

"Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Uh, no, I don't work for SI any more. I just… you know… tinker. I have new suits to show you soon."

"Cool."

"Seriously though. You probably should go to school or we'll both be in trouble."

"Dad. It's summer."

"Oh. That's okay then. Good work."

"Ah! There she is!" Penny shrieked suddenly, sitting properly upright. "Aww, she looks nervous…"

"What?" Tony looked at the screen. The cameras were focused on the lectern now, behind which Stevie was shaking hands with the event organisers. "Wait, what is she doing there?"

"She's a feminist _icon_, Dad. Now she's back, of course they're going to ask her to speak."

"She didn't tell me."

"She tried, you were in the lab and didn't take it in."

"What? She didn't come in the-"

Penelope shot him another unimpressed look. "You know, you really should be nicer to the girls you like."

"I _don't_-!"

"Ssh! She's starting!"

Tony shut up and turned his attention back to the television, wondering vaguely when he had allowed himself to become so hen-pecked by a preteen. Whoever married her was going to be in for a rough time- although, so far as he could tell, she was only this forceful at home. In all the time she had been living with him, she had never once brought a friend home from school, and now she was spending her summer break inside watching TV. Not that he was one to criticise; he had hated the summers of his youth- but that was the lot of the boarding school kid. At home with parents you barely knew, on opposite sides of the country (or even the world) to your friends, and weeks of isolation to burn. He'd spent most of his summers making and inventing, the occasional ghastly holidays with his parents, a few crashed house parties with the local kids, nothing he remembered with any fondness. Except the summer he had lost his virginity, that had been a good afternoon. He couldn't remember her name now, it had been foreign, German, maybe, he thought, or something like it. On holiday with her parents, maybe? It had been the tail end of the 1980s and she'd had seemingly endless dark hair, huge and puffed out in the fashion of the time, with no gap at all, it seemed, between her front teeth and thighs wide enough that when his hands wrapped round them his fingers were nowhere near each other. She was two years older than him (though how old either of them had been he could hardly remember, the details were lost in the drunken haze of the early adult years that followed) and he wasn't her first. She'd all but talked him through it, quite gently, more like a lesson than an erotic experience, a lesson in what to do, where to touch, in the language of the flesh. Everything he knew about pleasing women was built on that first time, but he hadn't thought about the German girl for years. He could hardly remember her, just strange disjointed parts of her body, just the teeth, the thighs, how she had felt. He did not even know where to begin guessing at her name.

He wondered if she remembered him. Probably not. If she hadn't been his first, she probably would have faded into the identity parade that was his record of lovers. There was no reason for her to remember. It was a pity, though. Even with all the scandals that appeared in the press with his name attached to them, she probably could have made a few bucks telling the story of how she took his virginity.

Tony realised three things almost simultaneously. First, that his mind was wandering more and more lately, which was bad. It could have been an age thing, but he hoped it wasn't. Secondly, he hoped Penny wasn't spending her summer in that particular mode of recreation, not yet. With a sudden horror, he realised the time was rapidly approaching that he would have to have _the talk _with Penny. He'd like to try and fool himself into thinking he didn't need to, that he had never had that conversation with his parents and _he'd _turned out fine, but realistically he knew that his number of lovers was probably greater than his pin code and it was hard to justify that argument when he was sitting next to his illegitimate child of a one-night stand. Maybe he could somehow persuade Stevie to talk to her about sex for him.

Then he was thinking about Stevie, and sex, and momentarily forgot what the third realisation had been. The he remembered- he'd missed almost all of Stevie's speech. He started to pay attention.

The title she had been given was, according to Penny, 'Women at War'. The subject did not particularly interest Tony, nor did he see how it could be particularly relevant to women today, but in fairness to her, Stevie did okay with it as a topic. She told a few amusing anecdotes, but, with the discretion and tact left over from her old fashioned upbringing, focused little on herself. She talked instead more generally about women's contributions; what her mother and her fellows had contributed during what she still called 'The Great War', what women had been doing on and off the battlefield in the 40s. She spoke very highly of a woman called Margaret Carter, who Penny seemed to have learnt all about but whose name Tony only knew as a co-founder of Shield with his dad. Stevie had, it turned out, spent some time as a volunteer nurse in a military hospital, and was full of praise for the efforts made there. The talk had a slightly odd tone to it, she was speaking almost as if the conflict was still ongoing, or was at least recent- he supposed, to her, it was. When her talk was finished, she was greeted by a round of applause and the floor was opened up to questions.

The first few were predictable enough. Somebody asked her opinion on the situation of women in the military _today_, to which Stevie replied she really didn't know. Somebody then informed her that women were allowed on the front lines, and asked her opinion on that.

"I think anyone who wants to risk their lives for their country and their freedoms should be allowed to do it." Stevie said, generating more enthusiastic support from the audience. "As long as they are an adult, physically capable, and, um, properly trained." She added, probably because she'd just become conscious of the cameras again.

Someone then informed her that women soldiers were much more likely to be victims of sexual assault, spewing off a string of statistics and asking her opinion on _that_. Stevie looked totally lost, of course; in one sense revolted, and in the other, probably amazed at the audacity to talk about such things in public. "I think women that join the military are aware of that risk and able to minimise it." She said, haltingly. "I, uh, I really admire their bravery."

This statement was not greeted with quite so much enthusiasm. People had probably expected her to talk more about what the military should do about it, to say that _something must be done_. It wasn't really fair, Tony thought. She'd been on ice for seventy years and they expected her to have the same knowledge as a politician. Yes, most of it was floating around online, but they didn't seem to understand that Stevie was still using 'google' as a verb to mean 'to search' in any context; she would 'google' to find where she had left her keys. Once, she had told Tony she had been 'googling for him' and for a moment he had been quite worried until he realised she had just been looking for him in the apartment. They had mutually agreed she should stop trying to use modern terminology that same day. He hadn't even broached the fact that Google was a company to her yet.

Stevie obviously sensed her answer had not pleased the crowd, but it was too late. They went to the next question, which was the first in a stream about her missions during the war. Stevie was at first reluctant, partly through modesty and partly through uncertainty about what she was allowed to say, but eventually a piece by piece account of her travels across Europe with the Howling Commandos began to emerge. She was a lot more hard core than Tony had expected.

He was also a little surprised by how often his dad's name came up. He knew Howard had dominated most of the military weapons contracts at the time, but he'd imagined him firmly embedded state-side, well away from the front lines. The way Stevie painted him, he'd been around at almost every military base there was, providing tech support and engineering, catering equipment to the terrain, testing and refining, very hands on. He had also, apparently, been an excellent civilian pilot and had occasionally flown them wherever they needed to go if the military planes were unavailable or too ostentatious. This was all news to Tony, but then, his Dad had always skirted away from talking about the war, usually going to get a drink instead. Tony went for one now, noticed Penny's worried look, wondered if he was drinking too much, and cheered her up by returning to the couch with two glasses of Coke. Penny looked happy. He very carefully gave her the one without Jack Daniels sneakily added to it.

"Captain Rogers," someone in the audience was asking. "Are you planning on being Captain America again?" This, Tony was interested in. He'd expected the subject to come up after their battle a couple of weeks before, but it hadn't. So far as he knew, Stevie had just gone back to her normal life in the flat downstairs.

"No." She said, very definitely. "You may, uh, have heard, um, press reports that I assisted Tony Stark- that is, Iron Man- in stopping some criminals recently-" There was a buzz in the audience. Tony sighed. After he had done so well keeping that quiet for her, knowing she didn't want any publicity, she just blurted it out. Stevie had no choice but to blunder on. "But that was a one-time thing. Captain America was very much a character made for war. I mean, you know it started as a stage show selling war bonds. Captain America was made to give our boys hope, the character was a symbol of strength to our friends and our enemies. It was never designed for peace time in 2012. In any case, I think it's really down to the US Military."

This was greeted by disappointed groans. Tony agreed, but didn't think it was true. He'd seen her fight, he'd heard her talk about justice countless times now. If there was a battle that needed fighting, Stephanie Rogers would fight in, in the suit or out. He voiced this sentiment to Penny.

"Yeah, but she's not like you, Dad." Penny said. "You _are _Iron Man. She doesn't see herself as Captain America. It's like she said, she sees Captain America as a character, this symbol of hope or strength or whatever."

"But that _is _her."

"Well, maybe she doesn't know that yet." Penny smirked slyly at him. "I _knew _you liked her."

"_Like _her? Okay, seriously, how old are you?" Tony sighed. "Look, I don't deny that she's attractive-"

"You so like her." Penny laughed.

"Attractive," Tony continued. "And, you know, sweet, and, like, secretly bad ass, but-"

"Admit it! You like her!"

"Fine. I like her." Tony sighed. "Just don't get your hopes up, kid. I don't do relationships."

"You should date her!"

"Are you even listening to me?"

Clearly Penny was not, as, at a surprised and half-outraged rumble from the audience, the television regained her attention.

"What was that?" Tony asked. "What the hell did she just say?"

"I don't know! Ssh!"

The questioner still had the microphone, and once the noise of the audience had died down, spoke with suitable indigence. "I'm sorry, Captain, but it kind of sounds like you're saying the ordeals these women went through is justified."

"Of course I'm not!" Stevie replied. "You're not listening to what I'm saying."

"So explain!"

"What those men did," Stevie answered, her temper clearly beginning to fray, "Was _not _justified. Not at all. No-one has any right to do anything to anyone else that they don't want done to them. You've got it on your poster over there- No means _no._ And, I mean, women that get treated like that are definitely the victims in the situation. I'm just saying people need to practice reasonable caution to keep themselves safe, same as you check for traffic before you cross the road. If you go out dressed like a harlot, you're asking to be treated like one. As you say, no means no, but that refusal becomes a lot harder to hear if everything you're wearing is screaming yes."

It took Tony a second to process what she was saying, and then he found himself laughing as much in surprise as amusement. "Is she slut shaming? She's slut shaming at a feminist conference on national television." Penny was looking on in horror.

"What do you suggest we do?!" The outraged questioner was demanding, hard to hear over the disruption in the audience.

"Cover up." Stevie said bluntly, clearly losing her cool now. "And, you know, watch how much you're drinking, stay safe. I mean, um, girls that drink too much aren't very attractive anyway. No-one wants to marry a drunk."

This caused Tony to start laughing again, though he couldn't help but pity her. She was a product of her time, more than he'd realised; the opinions that would be forgiven- expected, even- of a grandma sounded abhorrent from her young lips. Poor Stevie had no idea.

"Dad, don't laugh!" Penny said. "They're going to kill her!"

"Alright, alright, calm down." Tony said, getting over the last of his laugher and standing up. "I'll go get her. Jarvis, get the suit ready, we're going downtown."

Penny watched the screen anxiously. For the next few minutes, the tone of the conversation became much more dangerous, much more accusatory; Stevie was barely being given time to defend herself or her opinions. Penny's eyes were fixed on the event organiser, who was making no move to end this circus, or even to calm things down. Somebody asked Stevie her opinion on homosexuals, although of course it was asked in the most aggressive way possible- "I suppose you don't like the homosexual community either?"

"I know _nothing _about the homosexual community!" Stevie protested. "I'm not even entirely sure what that is!"

"Same-sex relationships!"

"What?" Stevie was completely thrown now, and it showed. "I don't know anything about that."

"So you don't care about equal civil rights for homosexuals?"

"Of course I- look, so far as I'm concerned, what someone _likes _to do shouldn't affect what they are _allowed _to do." She said, which would have made a fairly good sound bite, publicity wise, if it wasn't destined to be completely overshadowed by everything that had come before, and the fact that Tony chose that point to enter the back of the hall, in full Iron Man gear, thankfully cutting off whatever Stevie had opened her mouth to say next. She looked at him, shocked. Tony strolled casually to the front of the room and edged his way in front of the microphone.

"Hello, ladies." He said, which did not help. He held up his hands, as if to push back the disapproving wall of sound. "Okay, okay, whew, let's just take it down a notch here, this is all getting really intense. Can we just, maybe, like, take a second, digest everything? Everyone settle down, give the reporters time to catch up, let everyone finish their angry tweets, everyone take a breather, okay? Okay." Seeing he now had the room's attention, he moved away from the microphone, using the amplifier in his suit to talk to the audience as he wandered down into the aisles.

"You know, um, I'd never heard of this conference until the Captain told me about it." He began. "But I was really excited to hear about it, almost as excited as she was, because this, you know, this just wouldn't have happened in the 40s, we've come really far. But… you have to wonder why it is _still _happening. Why it still _has _to happen. I think sometimes women don't get enough of a voice, you don't get enough chances, cause even if, you know, a women is being awarded a noble prize or something you turn on CNN and you just get that weird dress up sweep thing. I mean, you know, she's saying something that can change the world and all I'm getting is a commentary on her gown? What's up with that?"

This was greeted by a few stray bursts of applause. Penny, watching at home, couldn't help but be impressed. This was her dad's legendary charm coming into play. She was fairly sure he only agreed with about 90% of what he was saying, but he knew how to get the audience on side.

"And, I mean, a lot was made of me promoting Pepper to be CEO of Stark Industries. I got all this weird good publicity and support from some of your fine, outstanding organisations," he acknowledged the audience. "Just for putting another woman into the board room. But let me tell you, I didn't promote Pepper to CEO because she's a woman- and you know, I _like _women- Oh, for the record, I _fully _support the sexual liberation of women-" He got a few laughs at that. "I promoted Pepper because she was the best _person _for the job. And until more organisations, more businesses, see women as _people _first, we're going to keep needing get togethers like this one. Because, you know what I think the problem is here?" He turned around, theatrically. "The problem I see is that there are like, what, five guys in this room, including me; and two of them are the camera men. Until the world realises that women's problems are _everyone's _problems, until events like this are split fifty-fifty right down the damn middle, we are _always _going to need to talk about this!"

This was greeted, of course, by thunderous applause. Somehow, he had got the room on side and had gently detached the focus from Stevie's unfortunate remarks. The questions resumed, but most of them were now directed at Tony, who fielded them perfectly. Stevie was able to stand back, let him take the reigns, let him rearrange anything she did say into a more acceptable answer, and by the time the session ended, everyone seemed to be excited and positive.

Penny had never been prouder of her father. She just hoped Stevie felt the same.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Stevie was quiet in the car, once she had thanked Tony for his help. She sat, hands folded in her lap, looking out of the window. Tony couldn't take the silence any more.

"What's wrong?" He asked. "Other than, you know, your disastrous first public appearance?"

Stevie looked at him, slightly desperate. "Tell me honestly- 'disastrous', is that an exaggeration?"

"Let me check Twitter and I'll get back to you on that."

"Twitter?"

"It's an internet thing." He would have explained, or attempted to, but the silence was broken by her stomach gurgling loudly. Stevie looked mortified. Tony couldn't help but laugh. "Hungry?"

"Um… no, no, I'm fine."

"Uh-huh. What happened, did you skip breakfast?"

"No." She said. "I just… I kind of eat a lot."

Tony snorted. "No you don't, you've eaten with us a hundred times. It's not like you pig out, I eat more than you do."

"I know… but when I go home, I usually make something else." She looked down at the floor. "One of the side effects of the serum is that my metabolism is four or five times faster than it should be. I get hungry pretty easily."

"You should have said, we would have ordered extra." Tony said, thinking back to all the take outs the three of them had shared while watching movies. "It's not like money is an issue, you know."

"I know, and thank you, but… I just don't like eating a lot in public. It doesn't seem very ladylike." She glanced over and saw Tony's expression. "What?"

"What kind of a reason is that?!" He asked. "It's the 21st Century, Stevie, people don't care about that kind of thing anymore. If you're hungry, just damn well eat!" He leant forward to speak to the driver. "Can we stop somewhere, please? Anywhere that serves fast food, thanks."

"Ah, you don't need to do that!" Stevie protested. "I'm fine till we get back."

"Aww, come on, let me take you for lunch."

"It's only 10:30."

"Well then, fine, it's about time you learnt about brunch."

A few moments later, they were sitting in the nearest KFC, which was thankfully quiet. Even the cashier hadn't seemed too surprised by Iron Man walking in with the revived Captain America and coming up to order in full armour. Such things were par for the course in New York these days.

Tony joined Stevie at the table a few moments later with a single portion for himself and a sharing bucket for Stevie. She eyed it anxiously.

"Tony. I cannot eat that much chicken. I think that is probably an entire chicken."

"You've never had Kentucky Fried Chicken before. Trust me, you can."

"Actually, I have." She looked more than a little smug. "I ate there with your Dad and the others when the stage show was touring Kentucky."

"You're kidding."

"No. It looks a little different, but I'm sure it's the same."

"Well then, you know it's good. Eat up."

She did so. She had obviously been hungry.

"Why was my Dad travelling with the stage show?" Tony asked. "I thought he was in weapons development. I can understand him being out on the bases with you, but why was he touring the country with a bunch of dancing gir- Oh. Never mind."

"…You never saw his show at the World Fair." Stevie answered, after a slight pause. "This was near the start of the tour. They asked him to come help us add some… you know. Razzle dazzle."

"Right." Tony didn't entirely believe her words, and from the expression on her face, neither did she. "You know, Dad never told me any of this. I only knew you worked together because of what we did in school."

"Oh… Well, it's a hard thing to talk about. Those shows though, the costumes were awful. Especially mine, I hated it. I'm going to get called a hypocrite, aren't I?" Her hasty change of subject did not go unnoticed, but for once Tony decided to let it go unremarked. He suddenly wondered if it hadn't just been the dancing girls his father had been lavishing attention on. It would be just like Stevie to be embarrassed about spurning his advances; she probably didn't want to tell Tony in case he was offended on his father's behalf. If anything, he was offended on hers. Stevie deserved better than being fooled around with by someone who wasn't serious about her.

That wasn't the same thing as his plan to sleep with her, either, not the same thing at all. He wasn't going to play any tricks, he was going to be clear from the beginning that any sex would just be sex, just a bit of fun between friends; between really super hot, sexy friends, who were actually a lot of fun to be with.

Maybe a relationship wouldn't be so bad in the short term if it meant they could just have fun. It would be as if they were only friends, but interspersed with regular make out sessions. Or even in the long term, maybe, as long as it didn't get too heavy, too trapping.

He was running out of reasons not to ask her out. This was bad. There was, however, still the fact that she was out of her own time. There was still a lot she didn't understand about the present day; even her ideas were old fashioned.

"Probably." He answered. "But I think most people will get that you didn't like wearing those outfits. Still, you can't say that kind of stuff anymore."

"I just want them to be careful."

"Look, I know, but women don't like being blamed for tempting men. You can't put the responsibility onto them like that."

She raised an eyebrow. "If they don't want to tempt men, then why are they dressing like that?"

"Well… I don't know, maybe it just feels good." Tony sighed, getting frustrated. It really was like arguing with his grandma. "I don't really get it either. Point is, if a woman's not interested you should just move along, whatever she's wearing. It's kind of pathetic otherwise."

"Oh, and I suppose you just move along, do you?"

"I don't have to."

"You don't?"

"No, because women are always interested."

Stevie laughed at that, shaking her head, and went back to her chicken.

"Come on, you know it's true."

"I'm not getting into this." Stevie said, but she was still smiling.

"No, come on, be honest. Not even a little?"

"Mr Stark, I don't think it's appropriate-"

"Oh, so I'm Mr Stark again now? Come on, admit it. Not even a little, tiny bit?"

"You are unbelievable." She said, laughing. "Fine, I am a _little tiny bit _interested in you. But only because of the suit."

"I knew it, chicks dig the armour."

"Yes, we're just not so keen on what's inside it."

"Ouch."

Stevie laughed again, and grew more serious. "Seriously. You know, back in the forties, when we thought about the year 2000, we sort of assumed we'd have… I don't know, moon bases and, and, personal space travel. Your armour is about the closest I've seen."

"I keep telling you, it's not a space suit."

"I know." She sighed, disappointed, then smirked again. "Really, what were you guys _doing _for seventy years? I was promised flying cars by the 1950s and family space vehicles by the seventies."

"What can I say? Dad was an optimist." Tony finished his drink, looking at Stevie curiously. He was beginning to sense something of a pattern here. "So, you like all the space and sci-fi stuff?"

Stevie cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well, if I don't have to worry about being ladylike, then yes, I guess I do. It all just seemed so… possible back then."

"Ignorance was bliss?"

"Maybe. Maybe people just needed to believe there was something better out there, believe in the human spirit…" She shrugged. "I used to read everything I could get my hands on. I had every issue of _Amazing Stories_. I made Bucky buy them for me, but the deal was I had to let him read them first. He was so slow, but it was his money, so what could I do?"

"Bucky?"

"Oh, he was my friend. His family did a little better in the bad economy than mine did."

"Were you and him…?" Tony cleared his throat, which had gone strangely dry. For some reason, he had never even thought about the possibility that she might have had someone in the past she still needed to get over.

"What? Oh, no. He was more like a brother, he used to take care of me. I mean… everyone always expected us to get married someday- including us, probably. That was just the way it was done. If we'd got to the age when it was time to settle down and we hadn't found anyone else to settle down with, then, I guess, maybe…" She paused, steading herself. "But, uh, he died. In the war. Just before I went under."

"Oh… I'm sorry."

"He was on my team. I made a bad call."

"Stevie-"

"No, I know, it was his choice." She finished her food, wiping her hands off with a napkin. "We all have to make that choice in the end. He was a hero." She smiled again. "…Thanks for coming to bail me out, Tony."

"No problem. It's always nice to see someone getting worse press than me."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Tony was aware that the day had been one of the most fun he'd had for a while, possibly ever. This was strange, considering there had been a frankly _distressing _lack of alcohol and he had spent a good few hours of it standing in dirt and dung.

Okay. So it hadn't been the most fun ever. In fact there had been quite a lot of it he hadn't enjoyed. But still.

It was Penny's fault. In one of her bff-conversations with Stevie (and Tony had no idea when they were happening, or how often they saw each other, so to him their connection seemed scarily telepathic) she'd told the older woman all about her Elementary school trip to a farm, where they had got to milk a cow and feed chicken and so on. These lead to Stevie asking if he could find out if it was still open, using the term 'Google' correctly for once, which lead in turn to her embarrassed admission that growing up in the city in the Depression meant she had never seen a cow before, at least not up close. She had apparently seen some from the windows of trains and cars as she travelled the US with the War Bonds tour, but only from a distance.

Tony had laughed, but as he had done so, realised the exact same thing could be said of him. He hadn't exactly been a nature lover as a kid, and neither his parents nor his school had been in any hurry to take him to the farm. The idea that he hadn't ever seen a cow was ridiculous, but he honestly couldn't call to mind a single occasion where he had. So they had gone to the farm, which totally wasn't a date, but was a little like a date, or, at least, might have lured her into going on a proper date with him some time. It was not his idea of fun, but at least Stevie seemed to enjoy it. She petted the animals and fed the chickens and milked the cow, and tried to persuade him to do it too, but Tony had refused. There was something germy and kind of gross about the whole thing. His general conclusion on cows was that he had not missed much. He had rarely felt so out of place in his life.

Still. Stevie had been so funny; her look of concentration as she tried to get the rhythm of milking right, her delight at having the chickens scuttling round her, her insistence that he stopped laughing and joined in; Tony couldn't actually remember the last time he had laughed so much. He found plenty of things funny in life, but he rarely gave in to all-out laughter. There was something undignified about it, but not, admittedly, as undignified as squeezing milk from the underside of a cow. It would have been dumber _not _to laugh.

But they'd managed to talk, too, as they walked around. He told her about (carefully selected and embellished) tales of boarding school and she told him about her (somewhat depressing) Depression era childhood. They talked a little about Penny, about his latest work in progress, about movies they'd watched and the ones coming next, about music. She was, of course, still woefully uneducated. He decided to get her an iPod for her birthday, and then quickly realised he'd already missed her birthday. It was one of their favourite things to teach you at school about Captain America, icon, woman soldier, born on that most American day, 4th July. He had always privately thought they had made that part up, but asking her about it, no, apparently it was true. Or, probably. Apparently they had also been less concerned about accurately recording births in 1918. The chances were, she said, that she had been born somewhere in the first week and her parents had just picked a good day when they finally got around to registering it. This, Tony decided, meant he was justified in her present being late, though he kept that part to himself.

However, it seemed he wasn't the only one interested in Stevie's musical education. Things had been going so well, he'd invited her up for dinner, an unscheduled movie night. The moment they stepped into his apartment, however, Jarvis began blasting music at max volume.

_Got a feeling inside (can't explain), It's a certain kind (can't explain)…_

"Cut the music, J." Tony shouted over it. He recognised the song and knew where this was headed. His AI had chosen a bad time to develop a sense of humour.

_I feel hot and cold (can't explain), Way down in my soul (can't explain)… _

"Jarvis, music off!"

"I'm trying, sir." If anything, Jarvis sounded rather petulant. "The programming seems to be stopping me."

"Programming? What programming?"

_Dizzy in the head and I'm feeling blue, the things you've said, well, maybe they're true… _

"Miss Penelope's programming. She has instructed me to play music whenever you enter, sir, because, after all, I am a glorified jukebox."

"Penelope!" Tony yelled. "Penelope, what the hell have you done to Jarvis?!" His daughter, rather wisely, did not appear. Tony sighed. "Where did she even learn to do this? Open manual controls."

_I'm getting funny dreams again and again, I know what it means but… _

"She used the Stark systems override code, sir." Jarvis obliged, opening a projected control panel. Tony went over to it, beginning to access the necessary sections of programming.

"What? I never told her that…"

_ Can't explain, I think it's love, try to say it you when I feel blue…_

"Please hurry, sir." Jarvis said. "There are 117 love songs in this album."

"_Penny_!" Tony yelled again, wishing the kid was a bit more scared of his anger.

"Um, maybe I should leave you to it." Stevie said, awkwardly. "I'll see you tomorrow. Good luck."

She was gone before he could say anything. Annoyed now, he finally got the music to turn off and went to find his wayward daughter. She was sitting in her room, waiting for him.

"I'm sorry!" She said. "I had no idea Stevie would be coming back with you! It was just a joke!"

"You know thing about jokes is, they're supposed to be funny." He glared at her. "Penny, messing with Jarvis is not only dumb, it's _dangerous_. Do you know what would happen to this place if he went down?"

"Okay… sorry." She pouted. "But I was careful!"

She had been, that much was obvious. In fact, it had been quite a skilful piece of work, surprisingly advanced for someone her age. He couldn't help but feel a little proud. She was definitely a Stark. Still, she didn't need to know that.

"You're grounded." He said, and felt uncomfortably like he was someone's father.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

It was the final straw. He was going to end up kissing this woman before the night was out, and he knew it.

He'd spent half the morning with Stevie, helping her get used to the iPod. He'd got hold of them and filled them up with the songs necessary to her musical education the night before, and taken them down first thing with a set of speakers. When she'd finally got used to operating it, Stevie was delighted. Tony couldn't help but be a little smug. Maybe it wasn't space, but the future wasn't as unimpressive as she made out. After that, he'd disappeared back up to the lab for a couple of hours. It had been far too long and his hands had been itching to make something again. He'd got so caught up in what he was doing that he was later than usual heading up for movie night; but even then, Stevie hadn't arrived. Eventually, he'd gone down to her apartment to investigate. Even before he reached the door, he could hear that the new speakers were being put to good use. He'd been a little surprised; he hadn't had her down for the music-blasting sort; then he realised it was far more likely that she'd turned it up by accident and couldn't work out how to put it down again. Laughing at the thought, he tried the door, which sure enough opened to admit him. Stevie still hadn't mastered that _in the future you really do need to keep your doors locked_. He finally understood how her Brooklyn flat had gotten so trashed to begin with.

She hadn't even noticed him going in. She was in the lounge, but rather than sitting on the couch or any of the comfortable chairs he had provided her with, she was sitting on a hard-backed dining chair, her back to the door, leaning on a table she'd pushed closer to the window. She had a pencil and a sketchpad in front of her, and would probably have been drawing, had she not been completely distracted by the music, her whole body bobbing along in time to it.

It was just about the damn cutest thing Tony had ever seen. He wanted to kiss her right then and there, so badly- more than kissing, really, but he tried to keep his thoughts PG during daylight hours. So, instead, he'd reminded her of the time, and gone on ahead.

Unfortunately, it seemed like he wasn't the only one with ideas about himself and Stevie. When she finally arrived, Penelope suddenly announced that she had chosen the film for that night, deviating from Tony's carefully selected list. She had decided they should all watch _Sleepless in Seattle_. It felt, to Tony, more like watching a train wreck. He glared daggers at his daughter as the story unfolded, but Penelope looked back unabashed. Stevie, meanwhile, seemed to be getting into the film. Not only did she have terrible taste in dates, she had terrible taste in movies.

Half an hour before the end, Penny yawned extremely theatrically, announced she _had _to go to bed, and fled the room. It was anything but subtle. Even Stevie looked awkward, and for a moment Tony thought she might leave, but no. She stopped to watch the end of the romantic movie, alone, with him.

He felt like he should drop his arm down from the back of the sofa and around her shoulders as if he was a teenager again, illicitly hanging out with girls in his parents' house. He resisted. They were both adults, after all. They could go into this, whatever this was about to be, adultly. He still hadn't decided if a relationship was really a good idea. Frankly, he would have been happy just to have sex and see how it went- maybe not with Penny in the flat and knowing exactly what they were up to.

But he was going to kiss Stevie tonight. On that much, at least, he had decided.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Stevie muttered, when Meg Ryan turned round to discover Tom Hanks was still there. Stevie smiled, happy with the ending. "That was sweet."

"You think so? It seemed a little stalker-y to me."

"What? How?" She tutted. "You just have no sense of romance. Although… um, I think Penelope…" She trailed off, awkwardly.

"Yeah." Tony nodded. "I think she was thinking exactly what you think she was thinking." The film had been about a son trying to find his father a new love. It had definitely not been subtle.

"I'm sorry." Stevie said. "Maybe I shouldn't come over so often. We don't want to give her the wrong impression."

"But she likes having you around." Tony said. He decided the moment for subtlety had past; or more accurately, thanks to Penelope, had been destroyed. That was alright. Subtlety wasn't his strong point either. "I like having you around."

"I… like being around." She said, cautiously. Tony moved in closer, a normal move, a signal to her of what was coming, just in case she didn't want it to. Of course, everyone had always wanted to.

"Well then." He said. "There's no problem."

"Tony…"

He closed the gap between them, kissing her. It was fairly tame, gentle, nothing too rough to start with. Her hands brushed up over his shoulders, reflex, he thought, and rested there as light as a bird. Encouraged, he went to make it deeper, but suddenly, she pulled away.

"I'm sorry." She said, flustered, getting to her feet. "I'm sorry, Tony, I shouldn't. I can't. I… I need to tell you something." She sat back down again.

"Look, if you don't want to, it's fine, it's no big deal, you don't need to explain-"

"No, I do, I…" She ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated. "I should have told you before, I just… he never told you, so I didn't think I should…"

"Who? Who never told me what?" Tony asked, but his brain, as usual, was fantastically quick, accelerating through the fact that she had first turned up at the tower looking for his Dad, had kept mentioning his Dad, always spoke so highly of his Dad.

She was in love with the damn bastard. He'd sneaked in seventy years before Tony and stolen her first. So everything since, everything with him, had just been because he was his Dad's son. It had been nothing at all.

"Y-your Dad and I…" She started, hesitantly, but Tony didn't need to hear it. It was the last thing he wanted to hear. Of course the randy old coot had played around with her, her and every other 1940s chorus girl, no doubt. Bastard.

"It's fine. I get it." He said, coldly. For a moment, Stevie looked like she wanted to say something more, than shut her mouth and nodded.

"I'm sorry." She said, gently kissing his cheek. With that, she stood up and quietly left.

For a few moments Tony sat on the couch, feeling generally bad tempered. Then he decided it was time for action.

"Jarvis?"

"Sir?"

"Is Penny asleep?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He stood up. "Call my driver. I'm going to a bar."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

_June, 1945_

_ Howard was not paying as much attention to his work as he was pretending to. His eyes kept flicking back to the clock on the wall. He'd switched the wireless off at the end of the baseball almost half an hour ago. She would be here soon, surely. He drummed the end of the spanner he'd been using against the side of the machine, restless. It was so rare they were in the same country these days, the odd snatched moments on army bases in the middle of nowhere between her attacks on Hydra bases, he thought she would have been a little more eager to get here; now all of them were home on leave together._

_ "Howard?" Right on cue, Annie entered the lab, ducking beneath one of the lower pieces of ventilation tubing. He grunted in greeting. He didn't want to seem too eager, even though he was desperate to have her back in his arms where she belonged. "There you are." _

_ "Annie." He turned to see her properly at last, and all his resolve to be cold to her immediately crumbled. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips, making her laugh lightly, so he did it again. He had missed her. "Here I am." _

_ "I think the question is, where were you?" She asked, lightly scolding._

_ "Working very hard," he said, lifting her other hand to kiss that one too, enclosing her two hands between his. "Learning poetry for my beloved Annie."_

_ "You're ridiculous." She laughed._

_ "It was many and many a year ago," He said stubbornly, pausing between words to press his lips to her hands again. She was here, and safe, and he'd missed her so badly. "In a kingdom by sea, that a maiden there lived whom you may know, by the name of Annabel Lee…" He paused, moving to kiss the insides of her wrists. As usual, she didn't want any of his 'nonsense' and gently untangled her hands from his, but allowed him to pull her close instead. He stroked her hair, whispering in her ear. "And this maiden, she lived with no other thought, than to love and be loved by me."_

_ "That," she teased, "Sounds like very wishful thinking, Mr Stark." She pressed her lips to his cheek and he released her, greetings done. Surely she had been sufficiently charmed now. She had to be. _

_ "Where were you, Howard?" She asked, trying to sound stern. "You were supposed to come to the game with us."_

_ "Yeah, well, you know, too many cooks spoil the broth." He said, trying to sound casual. "I thought you'd have enough people around, what with Bucky being there and all."_

_ "Howard." She sighed, frustrated. "Bucky's my friend. He's been like a brother to me ever since we were kids. He takes care of me."_

_ Howard shrugged, taking up his spanner again and returning to his work. "…do you ever think about after the war, Annie?" He asked, as casually as he could._

_ "Well, I'm praying for peace, if that's what you mean."_

_ "No, I mean, what are your plans?"_

_ "I don't know. It depends if I get discharged from the army or not. If they let me go, then… I don't know. I might go back to Brooklyn, see if I can get back into nursing. We'll see." She paused, watching him work. "What about you? There won't be much call for armaments once we've got peace. Are you going to start working on your flying machines, like I keep telling you?" Her tone was light, teasing. It would have been easy to slip into flirtation, but Howard couldn't allow himself to. He had something serious to ask her, the most serious question of his life._

_ "Well, I was thinking… after the war, maybe I could look after you." _

_ "Pardon?"_

_ He turned to her, took her hand again. "Well, I was thinking, you, me, a house, kids, a, a dog, a white fence, an apple tree in the yard, all of it. Everything. The whole nine yards, Annie." _

_ "Howard, I don't-"_

_ "Let's get married." _

_ "Howard-"_

_ "Stephanie Rogers, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"_

_ He had charmed her sufficiently. She said yes; and had, in their shared happiness, never looked so beautiful. _

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

A/N: **References**  
Song- _I Can't Explain_, The Who. This is and another song by The Who, _You Better You Bet_are my Stony jams, and no-one can tell me otherwise. :P I don't know how popular they were in America, but they were on the Simpsons one time, so that's good enough for me. XD Tony can have a bit of classic Brit Rock.

Film- _Sleepless in Seattle_I really don't think I need to explain this one, but needless to say, I don't own it.

Poem- _Annabel Lee,_Edgar Allan Poe. This is the poem that our title comes from, and if you take a look at the last couple of stanzas, hopefully you'll be able to see why! Also, Annie... Annabel... it seemed to work :)


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